LIBRARY 

<>K  Tin: 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


<  >  I  K'J '   (  )  K 


Accessions 


CA/s.s-  No. 


i 


SECRETS  TOLD. 


With  Twenty-two  Piquant  Illustrations 


BY 

ALICE   KINGSBURY 


(MRS.  COL.  F.  M.  COOLY) 
A 


TJ.H17BRSITT 


SAN  FRANCISCO  : 
ALTA  CALIFORNIA  PRINTING  HOUSE    529  CALIFORNIA  STREET 

1879 


CONTENTS. 

TITLES.  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Buttons  off This  is  the  Shirt 2 

Scolding This  is  the  Face 6 

*On  the  War  Path This  is  the  Hat 1 1 

Punctuality   This  is  the  Business 13 

About  husbands'  Presents This  is  the  Collar 17 

Servant  Girls This  is  the  Wig   20 

What  shall  we  do  with  our  Wives? These  are  the  Children 24 

Darning  Stockings These  are  the  Socks 28 

Daniel  Deronda 30 

Fashionable This  is  the  Shawl 33 

tA  woman's  expos£  of  the  male  housekeeper.  .  .  .The  Book 36 

j  The  Wrong  Wrought  by  a  Corner  Grocery This  is  the  Corner  Grocery.  .40 

Georges  Wife's  Opinion  on  B^.oks 42 

One  more  Unfortunate 47 

Too  Early  Marriage 50 

Disappointment 53 

Woman 57 

A  Plea  for  Laziness This  is  the  work 62 

Small  Feet This  is  the  Leg 67 

Why  do  Men  Marry?. . . : This  is  the  Divide 69 

Daniel  Deronda 74 

Courting These  are  the  Beaux 79 

To  the  Girls  of  to-day This  is  before  Marriage 83 

A  Loquacious  Woman This  is  after  Marriage 88 

The  Baby This  is  the  General 91 

Liberty 94 

Greivances This  is  the  Quarrel 97 

Woman  No  2 100 

Utilizing  the  rich This  is  the  Petition 103 

§The  man  who  stays  at  home  too  much 108 

How  a  Woman  Kept  a  Secret in 

About  going  on  the  Stage , 1 16 

Speak  your  mind Silence 120 

All  for  Love. . . . . . .  : 123 

*First  published  in  the  Argonaut. 
tFirst  published  in  the  Chronicle 
tAn  unknown  writer  in  the  Chronicle. 
§First  published  in  the  Chronicle. 


COPYRIGHTED,  1879, 
By   MRS.    F.  M.  COOLEY. 

AfcL  RIGHTS  RHSERVED. 


PREFACE  TO  ALICE  KINGS BURrS  NEW  BOOK 

SECRETS  TOLD. 

I  am  a  bachelor  of — to  observers — an  uncertain  age.  My  lady 
friends  make  me  their  confidant.  I  don't  know  why,  unless  it  is  my 
sympathetic,  reassuring  ways.  We  all  know  that  some  people  invite 
confidence  without  an  effort  on  their  part,  as  other  people  repel  the 
same.  I  am  of  the  former.  Now  mind  me,  in  giving  these  conver 
sations  to  the  public,  I  betray  no  trust  reposed  in  me,  for  I  so  change 
the  names  and  locations,  that  the  people  cannot  be  recognized  by  their 
nearest  neighbors.  I  do  it  too,  to  help  the  dear  sex  with  which  I  so 
sympathize,  in  their  troubles,  disappointments,  and  the  thousand  and 
one  petty  annoyances  of  married  life.  I  do  it  to  help  them  correct 
any  faults  of  their  own  that  have  in  any  possible  way  contributed  to 
their  unhappiness.  I  do  it  that  they  may  quietly  drop  the  book  in 
their  husbands'  way,  so  that  they  can  see  the  trouble,  the  little  faults  of 
Jones  or  Smith  cause  to  their  wives  and  families,  and  so  be  tempted 
to  mentally  examine  themselves. 

I  wish  and  expect  my  book  to  do  good,  am  almost  certain  some  of  the 
sketches  already  have,  for  which  I  thus  publicly  thank  the  Alfa,  who  first 
lent  me  a  helping  hand  in  the  hard  and  difficult  path  of  literature. 

Some  may  object  that  I  have  spoken  too  plainly — that  the  good  old 
Saxon  words  have  not  been  dressed  enough  for  polite  society.  In 
reply,  I  will  say,  the  book  is  for  grown  people;  it  is  intended  to 
correct  abuses,  which  only  plain,  truthful  language  can;  milk  and 
water  words  would  do  no  good,  and  as  all  that  I  have  written  has 
really  happened,  with,  as  I  said  before,  a  little  alteration,  I  would  beg 
those  whom  the  book  offends  to  give  it  where  it  will  do  the  most  good 
— or  put  it  in  the  fire.  HOP  o-Mv-TnuMB. 


P.  S. — It  was  the  intention  of  the  writer  to  receive  lady  subscribers  only,  but  finding,  although 
it  was  very  sure  it  was  rather  too  slow  for  his  purpose — for  the  reason  for  the  aforesaid  slowness, 
see  book — he  therefore  announces  that  the  subscription  list  is  open  to  the  masculine  gender  also. 


BUTTONS  OFF. 

N.  B. — This  being  woman's  first  duty,  thus  I  begin  my  book. 


"Oh!  good  gracious!  Oh,  my!  ho!  ho!  ha!" 

"What  is  the  matter,  Pet  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear!  to  think!  the  very  first  one!  ho!  ho!  ho!" 

"  Why,  Pet,  you'll  go  into  a  fit,  if  you  don't  stop." 

"Ho!  ho!  ho!— ho!  ho!  ho!" 

His  face  was  red  and  swollen,  and  the  little  woman  became  alarmed  , 
so  taking  him  by  the  two  hands,  she  tried  to  raise  him  from  the  bed, 
where  he  had  thrown  himself  in  the  excess  of  his  hilarity.  It  was 
hard  work,  for  his  two  hundred  avoirdupois  was  too  much  for  her  ligh' 
weight  of  eighty-five.  After  a  few  more  outbursts  of  "  Ho!  ho!  ho!' 
and  the  sprinkling  of  his  face  with  cold  water — sprinkling,  mind  you, 
by  a  gentle,  loving  hand — not  dashed  on  by  a  vixen — he  helped  him 
self  to  a  sitting  position  on  the  edge  of  the  bed. 

"Pet,  you  frighten  me!" 

"  But  to  think,  the  very  first — ho!  ho! — " 

"  Now,  please,  don't!" 

And  all  this  about  a  button  being  off!  !  She  had  told  him,  with  a 
great  deal  of  pride :  "  Pet,  I  have  mended  all  your  shirts,  and  there's 
not  a  button  off  now,  in  the  whole  lot." 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


''  Let's  see."  he  had  replied,  incredulously;  and  sure 
enough,  the  very  first  shirt  was  minus  a  button.  She 
tried  to  explain  it  away,  but  the  fact  was  indisputable. 
She  wasn't  a  very  good  housekeeper,  and  sometimes  for 
got  to  attend  to  those  very  important — to  women — articles 
of  buttons,  while  she  was,  well,  not  exactly  attending  to  the 
wants  of  Borrioboola  Gha,  but  writing  poetry.  (This  is  a 
true  story,  as  the  fairy  books  don't  say. ) 

They  were  a  happy  couple,  too;  it  was  only  when  clean 
The  Shirt,     ghjrt   day   came   round,    and   the   drawer    was   suddenly 
opened,  that  her  face  became  anxious,  and  she  tried  to  remember  if 
she  had  forgotten  to  look  at  the  wash  last  week,  and  often  her  fears 
were  confirmed  by 

"  Humph!  there's  a button  off !" 

11  Is  there,  really  ?     Why,  I  looked—" 

"No you  didn't,  either!  I  shouldn't  think  it  was  much  work  to  sew 
on  a  button!" 

"  But,  Pet,  if  you  only  knew  how  hard  it  was  to  put  a  shirt  away 
decently,  after  completely  unfolding  it  to  look  at  every  cuff  and  neck 
band,  you  would  not  be  surprised  that  I  content  myself,  sometimes, 
by  seeing  that  the  bosoms  are  all  right — here,  let  me  sew  one  on." 
So  she  sits  up  in  her  nightgown,  her  teeth  chattering  with  cold,  and  he 
bends  over,  looking  the  picture  of  amiability.  "The  more  haste  the 
less  speed,"  you  know  the  adage  ;  and  whoever  saw  a  button  aewed  on 
in  a  hurry  that  the  thread  didn't  knot  several  times,  or  the  button  fall 
to  the  floor,  or  the  needle  stick  somebody,  so  that  there  are  generally 
two  sighs  of  relief  when  the  operation  is  completed  ? 

The  quickest  process  I  ever  saw  yet  of  arousing  a  slumbering  woman 
on  a  cold  morning,  has  been  the  gentle  exclamation  of  her  spouse  : 
"There's  a  buiton  off." 
It  is  said  so  quietly,  too,  without  any  dashes,  as  we  gentlemen  always 


SECRETS    TOLD.  O 

remind  our  wives  of  their  little  deficiencies  in  duty,  that  it  is  a  marvel 
how  it  can  have  the  effect  of  a  thunderbolt,  causing  an  apparition  in 
white  to  start  up  with  such  suddenness  as  to  nearly  knock  her  nightcap 
off  her  head,  more  potent  than  the  aroma  of  a  good  breakfast  stealing 
up-stairs,  or  the  sweet  tones  of  love,  uttering  : 

"  Get  up,  dear." 

Now,  let  us  look  at  this  question  theoretically. 

A  button  is  a  small  thing,  a  cheap  thing,  a  thing  of  little  intrinsic 
value  ;  a  piece  of  pearl,  a  piece  of  china  or  a  piece  of  brass,  or  bone» 
or  iron,  or  tin,  or  silk,  or  cloth,  with  one  hole,  two  holes,  three,  four, 
and  sometimes  no  hole  at  all,  still,  a  button's  a  button  and  very  dear 
to  the  heart  of  a  man. 

Pins  answer  every  purpose  for  you,  gentle  women  ;  your  deft  fingers 
can  pin  a  collar  or  a  ruff  on  your  dress,  and  the  pins  remain  as  firm  as 
adamant,  and  don't  draw  blood  either  ;  but  let  one  of  us  poor  mascu 
lines  try  it  in  a  fit  of  spleen  or  resentment,  and  don't  we  rue  the  day  ? 
Why,  there's  not  a  man  on  the  street  that  don't  know  it ;  either  by 
seeing  the  pin,  that  we  have  not  the  ingenuity  to  conceal,  and  that 
constantly  rasps  our  hands  as  we  stroke  our  petted  moustache,  or  by 
the  collar  getting  into  our  back  hair,  leaving  a  rosy  line  of  flesh  where 
the  pin  has  been  making  its  mark,  or  by  that  peculiar  twisting  and 
turning  of  the  neck  that  cannot  be  mistaken. 

Now,  we  don't  mind  our  cuffs  being  a  little  "  sawy"  at  the  edges* 

for,  although  I  was  a  little    surprised  at  my  friend 1  stretching  out 

his  from  a  sleeve  of  finest  broadcloth,  to  pencil  a  memoranda  of  how 
much  he  was  "long"  or  " short"  on  New  Coso,  although  I  was,  as  I 
said,  surprised  to  see  a  nice  little  saw  at  the  end  of  his  snow-white  cuff 
still  I  know  if  the  buttons  were  all  on,  he  was  in  comfort  and  could 
smile  at  the  ragged  edge. 

I  have  heard  of  a  murder  being  committed  because  a  beefsteak  was 
not  done  to  suit ;  of  another,  because  dinner  was  not  done  in  time; 


6  SECRETS   TOLD. 

of  scores  of  others  on  more  frivolous  pretexts;  yet  who  ever  heard  of 
blood  being  drawn  by  patient  man  on  account  of  an  aggravation  fifty, 
nay  a  hundred  times  worse  than  either  of  these?  But,  dear  ladies, 
take  warning,  the  mildest  of  men  can  be  driven  to  desperation  ;  the 
most  amiable  of  husbands  can  become  a  fiend ;  the  most  learned  of 
scholars  turn  brute  ;  the  most  loving  of  spouses  a  savage,  by  the  con 
stant,  reiterated,  inexcusable,  with  malice-aforethought  forgetful  ness  of 
the  first  and  foremost  duty  of  a  married  woman's  life,  attending  to  her 
husband's  buttons. 

Ladies,  be  warned !     Farewell. 

And  this  was  Madeline's  experience,  related  to  me. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


SCOLDING. 


We  don't  scold.  With  all  our  faults  of  omission  and  commission, 
we  don't  scold.  Why,  everybody  knows  that,  from  our  wife  down  to 
our  youngest  babe.  That  is  the  fair  sex's  prerogative.  If  we  refuse 
them  the  ballot,  for  goodness  sake,  let  us  grant  them  the  privilege  of 
expressing  their  mind  freely. 

Of  course,  we  would  rather  they  would  express  in  words  than  in 
actions,  for  it  is  a  little  unpleasant  to  have  to  go  about  for  a  day  or 
two  with  our  face  bound  up,  because  of  a  dreadful  boil,  when  it's  only 
the  loving  marks  of  little  nails,  we  are  trying  to  hide. 

A  friend  of  mine,  living  in  the  cold  North — a  politician,  too — had 
occasion  once  to  come  into  town — he  resided  in  the  country.  He 


SECRETS    TOLD.  < 

met  several  of  his  colleagues,  and,  as  politicians  never  drink  anything 
strong,  he  was  surprised  that  after  imbibing  several  glasses  of  milk, 
and  smoking  sundry  cigars,  that  he  should  wake  up  as  a  visitor  in  the 
jail,  not  as  a  prisoner,  mind  you,  for  he  was  a  noted  politician  and  the 
jailor,  his  friend,  took  this  method  of  hiding  him  from  the  gaze  of  the 
rude  public.  When  he  did  not  return  to  his  home  at  the  proper  time 
— some  men  haye  proper  times,  and  some  don't,  as  we  know — his 
wife,  who  adored  the  ground  he  walked  on,  figuratively  speaking,  had 
had  an  immense  feather-bed  placed  in  their  large  wagon  ;  then,  with 
the  driver,  started  for  town  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  expecting  to 
pick  up  his  poor,  mangled  body  on  the  road.  The  twelve  miles  were 
passed,  and  no  mangled  body;  the  town  was  reached,  and  no  rumor 
of  such  a  body.  The  patient  wife  visited  all  his  haunts,  and  finally 
brought  up  at  the  jail.  Her  entrance  suddenly  awakened  her  husband, 
who  quickly  remembered  he  had  forgotten  several  hours,  and  could 
not  imagine  how  in  the  world  he  had  got  there!  She  quietly  took  him 
to  a  friend's  to  explain  matters.  He  smiled  so  good-naturedly,  by 
way  of  explanation,  that  it  exasperated  her,  and  she  clawed  his  face 
like  an  infuriated  little  cat.  All  for  love,  though !  Why,  for  her,  the 
sun  rose  and  set  in  that  man's  beautiful  black  whiskers. 

Think  how  she  had  suffered ! — a  twelve-mile 
ride  in  a  bitter  cold  night,  straining  her  eyes  at 
every  log  and  shadow ;  and  not  to  find  his  man 
gled  body  after  all! — her  kindness  thrown  away 
on  an  ungrateful  man  who  had  only  been — well, 
indiscreet.  He  carried  the  marks  of  those  lov 
ing  fingers  for  several  days,  but  he  didn't  scold 
— at  least,  I  did  not  hear  him.  I  don't  know  This  is  the  Face, 
what  he  did  when  he  reached  home. 

Now,  this  is  a  sample  of  what  we  poor  men  endure  without  a  mur- 
mer — sometimes;  and  for  such  little  offences,  too! 


8  SECRETS   TOLD. 

Why,  I  know  of  a  man  who  tried  to  pursuade  his  wife  that  she  must 
have  his  dinner  done  in  time,  by  quietly  pressing  his  feet  on  her 
body!  The  argument  was  not  effective,  though,  for  she  never  cooked 
his  dinner  again,  and  he  was  not  hung  for  murder,  either.  This  hap 
pened  in  the  enlightened  town  of  Cincinnati. 

But  men  will  express  their  minds  by  actions,  leaving  words  to 
women,  in  other  cities  beside  that.  Why,  last  Summer  in  gentle  Phil 
adelphia,  that  mis-named  City  of  Brotherly  Love,  a  man  used  the 
peaceful  argument  of  saturating  his  wife  with  coal  oil,  and  then  ignit 
ing  her,  all  about  a  beefsteak!  You  will  find  the  account  in  the  left 
hand  column  of  one  of  the  daily  papers  there;  she  died,  and  the  man 
lives,  for  all  I  know. 

Now,  though  we  dont  scold,  I  would  advise  the  abandonment  of 
these  very  pronounced  arguments,  as  the  result  is  neither  satisfactory, 
nor  the  record  of  the  experience  calculated  to  help  a  needy  brother. 

We  don't  like  scolds  of  any  kind,  and  to  be  eternally  greeted  with: 

u  Now,  Hun" — short  for  Honey — "do  be  careful,  and  wipe  your 
feet!" — meaning  boots.  "  Oh,  dear!  see  how  you  have  soiled  the 
carpet!  !" 

"Can't  you  possibly  spit  straighter  into  that  cuspador?" 

"  Please  don't  smoke  in  the  parlor,  it  spoils  the  curtains?" 

"Oh,  dear! — with  a  weary  sigh— "you've  got  your  boots  on  the 
bed  again!" 

Are  apt  to  irritate  a  man,  and  cause  him  to  leave  his  peaceful 
home  and  seek  elsewhere  an  asylum  in  which  he  can  indulge  his 
little  eccentricities. 

The  corner  grocery  is  very  convenient,  though  it  is  a  little  unpleas 
ant  to  be  startled  from  a  quiet  game  of  whist,  or  lively  draw-poker,  by 
the  dulcet  tones  of  your  wife,  who  makes  a  loaf  of  bread,  or  to  know 
the  exact  time,  an  excuse  for  a  visit;  and  seeing  our  elbows  extending 
beyond  the  inconveniently  small  barricade  that  separates  our  elysium 


SECRETS    TOLD.  9 

1 

from  the  gaze  of  impertinent  curiosity,  she  instantly  recognizes  that 
patch  on  our  sleeve,  and  exclaims:  "why  Major!  Some  one  has 
been  waiting  a  whole  hour  for  you !" 

We  jump  up  lively,  thinking  it's  that  Jones  who  has  been  owing  us 
for  so  long,  come  to  settle  ;  but  are  soon  undeceived  when  we  reach 
the  gate,  or  perhaps  she  is  shrewd  and  lets  us  reach  the  parlor  first. 

"Now,  aren't  you  a  pretty  husband!  Here  I'm  moping  all  day 
alone,  and  the  minute  you  get  your  dinner,"  etc.,  etc. — we  have  all 
been  there. 

Now  ladies,  don't,  please  don't  scold  ? 

I  would  rather  my  wife  would  slap  my  ears  good,  so  long  as  she  did 
not  scratch  my  face,  than  to  be  forever  nag,  nag,  naging  at  me. 

Two  of  our  friends  went  to  a  country  ball  one  night,  leaving  their 
wives  in  ignorance  at  the  hotel.  There  they  watched  for  them  till  the 
gray  dawn,  when  they  returned- — one  looking  very  crestfallen,  the 
other  jolly,  with  a  horsewhip  in  his  hand. 

"  Here  love,  use  this  on  me,  but  don't  scold!"  said  he;  so  she  was 
silenced  before  she  began. 

"  Whew  "  whispered  the  other,  "  I  wouldn't  dare  offer  it  to  my  wife; 
she'd — she'd  cut  my  very  heart  out!"' 

Now,  here  was  a  small  offence  to  be  even  angry  at.  A  gentleman 
enjoys  himself,  dancing  till  day  with  a  lot  of  pretty  girls,  and  his  wife, 
who  should  be  so  thankful  that  he  was  happy,  and  who  should  look 
upon  her  long  night  of  dreadful  anxiety  as  a  mere  bagatelle  to  be  often 
endured,  if  necessary,  to  allow  him  the  ecstasy  of  squeezing  slender 
waists  and  pressing  soft  hands,  to  be  angry !  Now,  what  reasonable 
woman  ought  to  object,  and  to  scold,  too.  Oh !  dreadful ! 

Now,  if  our  wives  should  follow  our  example,  and  do  likewise,  we 
would  not  scold.  Oh,  no!  But  we  would  kill!  or  send  them  home  to 
their  mothers.  That's  more  polite  and  genteel. 

I  once  knew  a  man  who  scolded  sometimes,  but   he  was  the  mildest 


10  SECRETS    TOLD. 

9 

tempered  man  in  the  world  ;  so  fat  and  jolly,  too.  He  was  quite  an 
amateur  cook,  and  one  day  made  some  splendid  oyster  stew;  but  it  did 
not  exactly  suit  his  wife,  and  she  expressed  her  disapprobation  by 
dropping  a  fork  on  the  floor  accidently.  That  was  enough  ;  the  good 
natured  man  picked  up  a  bowl;  smash  it  went,  then  another,  then 
a  plate  smash!  then  a  cup,  saucer,  dish;  then  the  cruet  bottles.  His 
wife  did  not  attempt  to  stop  him,  but  when  he  was  through  she  laughed 
at  him  ;  he  snatched  his  hat  in  fury  and  rushed  to  the  door.  His  wife 
had  hard  work  to  coax  him  to  return  and  eat  his  dinner,  but  for  months 
he  took  his  bread  and  milk  out  of  the  butter  dish — his  wife  would  buy 
no  more  bowls !  Another  time  he  thought  he  would  cook  some  savory 
sausages.  His  wife,  being  hungry,  cooked  one  while  he  was  preparing. 

If  a  thunderbolt  had  shattered  the  house,  if  a  water  spout  had  burst 
and  drowned  them  all,  if  an  earthquake  had  shook  them  through  to 
China,  she  could  not  have  been  more  surprised  than  at  the  vial  of 
wrath  that  burst  upon  her  head !  The  husband  almost  danced  with 
anger. 

"Yes!  I've  seen  it  for  some  time;  I  don't  suit  you  any  more!" 

"  Why,  Pet !  I  was  so  hungry !" 

"Thunderation!"  Smash  went  the  stove-lifter — broke!  "  I  know 
— nothing  I  do  suits  you  these  days,"  etc. 

After  the  husband  had  finished  explaining  himself,  and  his  wife 
wanted  to  explain  also,  he  went  for  the  street — that's  the  way  some  of 
us  escape  it — and  his  wife  had  to  coax  and  plead  to  get  him  back  to 
his  sausages  and  his  senses.  See  the  cause  he  had  !  Why  did  his 
wife  not  wait  and  eat  with  gentility,  and — a  knife  and  fork,  instead  of 
seizing  a  broiling  hot  sausage  in  her  fingers,  as  if  she  was  starved  ? 

It  is  only  in  such  extreme  cases  that  we  have  the  weakness  to  use 
a  woman's  weapon,  the  tongue. 

I  hope  I've  proved  to  you  that  we  men  don't  scold,  or  if  we  do, 
our  actions  speak  so  much  louder  than  our  words,  that  we  get  the 


SECRETS    TOLD.  11 

reputation  of  being,  perhaps,  a  little  more  angelic  than  we  really  are. 
But  you  ladies,  being  naturally  sweet  and  weak,  and  not  of  deter" 
mined  action,  overflow  with  words,  and  are  therefore  called  by  the 
peculiar  name  of  scolds! 

Take  my  advice,  practice  with  dumb-bells,  war-clubs,  boxing- 
gloves,  the  Health  Lift — anything  to  develop  your  muscle,  remember 
ing  always  that  actions  speak  louder  than  words!  Be  advised. 

And  this  is  how  May's  husband  acted. 

Hop-O'-MY-THUMB. 


OF  THIS 

7ERSIT 


ON  THE  WAR  PJTH. 


The  subjoined  "  talk"  comes  from  a  lady  friend  who  attended  the 
lecture  of  Ingersoll,  and  there  learned  to  talk  back.  She  is  getting  in 
dependent,  speaks  of  herself  as  a  full  partner  in  the  firm  matrimonial, 
and  believes  she  is  as  much  entitled  to  have  a  good  time  as  her  hus 
band  has  to  play  Blue  Peter  and  cinch  at  the  club.  We  are  not  re 
sponsible  for  the  views  of  our  (lady)  correspondents: 

I  have  been  trying  for  a  few  weeks  Woman's  Natural  Sphere,  with 
not  a  thought  above  cleaning  pots  and  pans,  and  what  should  compose 
the  next  dinner.  My  knees  have  been  bent  more  to  the  God  of  Clean 
liness  than  for  many  a  long  day  to  the  God  of  Love.  The  lamp  has 
been  filled  and  the  fleas  brushed  away,  and  yet  I  have  failed  to  dis 
cover  that  it  is  at  all  elevating  or  soul  inspiring,  or  that  your  husband 
loves  you  two  cents  more  for  being  the  family  drudge.  And  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  by  no  means  an  intelligent  woman's 
sphere,  no  matter  how  much  bosh  a  man  may  write  about  it,  and  that 
your  children  think  less  of  "mamma,"  with  soiled  hands  and  drabbled 


12 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


dress,  than  when  she  is  singing  in  the  parlor,  or  even  writing  trash  for 
the  newspapers,  and  yet  I  am  not  "  strong  minded/'  and  don't  want 
to  vote — at  least  till  the  next  election.  My  hands  feel  as  if,  instead  of 
5f,  I  could  easily  wear  7£,  Jouvin's  best;  and  instead  of  1£ 
ankle  ties,  the  shoes  of  the  Chinese  Giant  would  be  more  comfort 
able.  I  have  broken  my  corset  lace,  and  ruined  my  "  pinback,"  and 
all  that  my  beloved  should  smoke  fine  cigars,  and  play  * '  Pedro"  for  the 
drinks,  and  now  I've  done.  I'm  going  to  hire  a  Dutch  girl  as  strong 

as  an  ox,  and  big  enough 
to  keep  the*family 
straight.  When  dinner 
is  ordered  for  six  p.  M., 
we  have  dinner  at  six  p.  M., 
if  there  is  only  an  old 
hat  to  sit  in  the  chair  op 
posite  me  for  company. 
I  have  learned  in  these 
few  weeks  of  stern  ex- 
ijperience  that  a  woman 


is   a  f- 


This  is  the  Hat. 


,  excuse  me, 
an  angel,  to  work  and 
worry  her  life  out,  be 
cause  she  happens  to  be 
a  partner  in  a  firm,  the 
other  half  of  which  spends  all  the  money  and  has  all  the  fun,  she 
getting  her  board  and  lodging,  like  any  other  servant,  without  a  "thank 
you,"  for  all  her  trouble,  and  the  house  being  ever  so  clean,  whereas, 
a  "  hired  lady  help,"  would  be  spoken  to  softly  with  praise  for  the 
scrubbed  floor,  and  nice  dinner,  and  a  convenient  little  twenty-dollar 
gold  piece  at  the  end  of  the  month;  and  yet  they  are  not  happy,  and 


SECRETS    TOLD.  13 

if  they  are  not  kissed  behind  the  door,  they  soon  seek  fresh  fields  and 
pastures  new. 

Well,  well,  well!  Will  no  experience  teach  a  woman  how  to  manage 
a  husband  ?  I  have  had  experience,  years  of  experience,  and  yet  I 
am  as  far  from  the  goal  as  ever,  and  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
unless  a  man  has  the  bumps  of  time  and  order  well  developed,  that  a 
woman  wastes  her  time  in  trying  to  be  either  a  good  house-keeper  or  a 
good  husband-tamer;  and  my  advice  is,  find  out  where  those  bumps 
or  deficiencies  are,  and  go  for  them. 

P.  S.  You  think  I  am  trying  to  make  women  discontented  (so  I 
am)  with  their  mamby-pamby — work-themselves-gray — -lives.  Let 
them  rise  up  in  their  might  and  dignity,  and  show  a  man  he  is  not 
everybody;  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  woman  to  be  considered, 
who  is  now  going  to  take  her  place  as  joint-head  of  the  house,  which 
he  will  soon  learn  to  his  utter  amazement.  Oh!  don't  think  that  this  is 
my  experience;  do  not  give  me  the  discredit  of  being  such  a  simple 
ton;  but  a  lady  friend  whispered  it  in  my  ear,  and  if  it  is  her  experi 
ence,  it  is  the  experience  of  thousands  of  others;  for  there  is  no 
blessed  or  unblessed  exception  that  elevates  one  woman  to  the  extreme 
hights  of  happiness,  and  depresses  another  to  the  lowest  depths  of 
misery — it  rails  pretty  even,  and  woman  is  only  woman  all  the  world 
over. 

And  this  is  what  Agnes  says. 


PUNCTUALITY. 


Some  men  are  not  punctual.  We  revere  our  sex,  still,  we  are  not 
blind,  like  love,  so  we  see  the  few  faults  that  are  hardly  discernable  in 
that  perfection  of  humanity — a  man. 


14 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


Perhaps  it  would  be  better  for  our  own  sake  that  we  cultivate  this 
quality,  habit,  characteristic,  or  what  it  may  be  called.  First  and  fore 
most,  we  should  hear  sweeter  music  in  our  mother  tongue,  syllabled 
by  our  wife. 

The  moments  slip  by  so  rapidly  when  one  is  just  finishing  a  war- 
story,  or  is  deep  in  a  discussion  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  rival  Presi 
dential  candidates;  and  we  are  reasonably  surprised  when  we  are  a  little 
late,  say  fifty  or  sixty  minutes,  to  meet  a  small-sized  thundercloud  at 
the  door. 

"Where  have  you  been?" 

"  Why,  what  time  is  it,  dear  ?" 

"  An  hour  past  dinner-time,  and  everything  is  spoiled." 

"  Really,  I  must  take  my  watch  to  the  jeweler's" — taking  it  out. 
"  Why,  it  is  five  o'clock  by  this,  and  you  say  I'm  an  hour  late  Then 
this  must  be  much  too  slow !" 

This  excuse  will  only  do  occasionally,  as  it  soon  becomes  monoton 
ous  and  thin,  and  dinner-time  is  too  early  to  mention  Lodge.  That 
has  to  bear  enough  for  itself  and  fifty  other  things,  when  night  comes. 

So  when  we  wish  to  watch  the  pretty 
girls  coming  from  the  matinees,  we  have 
to  invent,  and  our  brain  must  be  fertile 
if  we  often  wish  for  meeting  an  old  friend 
or  a  spendid  customer — can't  be  repeated 
too  often,  if  our  wives  have  the  penetra 
tion  and  appreciaton  we  gave  them 
credit  for  when  they  chose  us.  Besides, 
they  know  about  what  time  our  business 
ends  for  the  day. 

Sometimes  we  can  put  it  on  the  cars, 

This  is  the  Business.  and  happy  is  the  man  who  can  plead  a 

car  off  the  track  or  a  fractious  horse. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  15 

But  why  the  women  act  as  if  life  and  death  depended  upon  one 
being  home  at  just  such  a  time,  we  cannot  see. 

What  if  dinner  is  a  little  overdone,  so  long  as  it  is  hot  and  served 
with  mild  words,  it  will  taste  well  enough. 

I  know  a  wife  who  once  took  the  notion  into  her  head  to  always 
wait  dinner  for  her  lord.  The  first  month  she  went  hungry  ;  the 
second,  cross;  the  third,  nearly  starved  the  children;  the  fourth  was 
furious;  the  fifth,  tried  to  hunt  him  up;  the  sixth,  ate  dinner  without 
him,  and  there  was  peace  and  quietness  all  around;  the  children  were 
satisfied,  the  servants  stopped  their  grumbling,  and  the  wife,  not  being 
hungry  and  tired  with  waiting,  was  in  a  better  humor  and  inclined  to 
look  more  leniently  on  the  causes  of  the  delay. 

This  I  would  advise  all  our  wives  to  do, -after  waiting  a  reasonable 
length  of  time,  say  half  to  two  hours;  this  is  about  as  much  as  any 
woman's  patience  can  stand,  or  their  appetites  either. 

We  know  that  we  are  so  fascinating,  that  it  is  hard  to  eat  without  us, 
and  we  should  be  really  pleased  and  flattered,  if  it  were  some  one 
else's  wife  waiting  for  us  so  anxiously  ;  but  being  ours,  it  is  an  old 
story,  and  we  are  apt  to  be  angry  when  they  complain  of  hunger. 

"Why  don't  you  eat,  then?  I  have  told  you  to  a  hundred  times. 
I  wouldn't  go  hungry,  I  can  tell  you,  with  a  good  dinner  waiting." 

"But  it  is  so  lonely  to  eat  without  you — I  see  so  little  of  you,  that  I 
scarcely  get  a  chance  to  talk  to  you  any  more." 

"Oh,  fudge!" 

You  see,  it  doesn't  do  to  be  too  romantic  after  being  married  a 
couple  of  years  or  so.  We  know  that  this  thinking  too  much  of  us, 
waiting  for  our  coming,  and  watching  for  our  smiles,  is  apt  to  make  a 
woman  look  old  and  worn  ;  so  take  my  advice,  ladies,  and  don't  do  it. 

I  wan't  to  whisper  something,  so  that  my  brothers  shan't  hear;  bend 
down  your  head:  We  don't  think  near  so  much  of  you  for  it — be  a 


16  SECRETS    TOLD. 

little  more   devil    and  less   angel,    and  you  will  hold   us   to  you  the 
stronger. 

I  heard  the  wife  of  a  friend  of  mine  once  say  to  him: 

"If  I  was  a  man,  I  wouldn't  trust  you  one  bit  in  a  business  mat 
ter,  because  you  never  keep  your  word. " 

He  laughed  pleasantly,  and  replied  : 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  to  break  your  word  to  your  wife;  but  in  business 
it's  a  very  different  matter." 

A  friend  of  mine,  whose  dinner-hour  is  six,  strolled  in  at  eight  one 
evening,  with  a  friend  whom  he  had  brought  home  to  dinner.  The 
inconsiderate  wife  had  dined  without  him. 

"I'm  afraid  I've  kept  your  husband  a  little  late,"  said  the  guest. 

He  got  an  emphatic  reply  in  the  shape  of  the  scrag  end  of  the 
joint  and  cold  vegetables. 

Some  of  us  think,  no  matter  what  time  we  drop  in  for  dinner,  it 
should  be  done  to  a  turn;  and  I  have  heard  some  men  scold — excuse 
me — express  their  mind  freely,  when  dinner  had  waited  two  or  three 
hours  and  was  not  quite  so  good  as  if  just  served  up,  that  their  wives 
were  no  housekeeper,  and  couldn't  cook  like  their  mother! 

These  gentlemen  should  have  a  series  of  dinners — or,  rather,  their 
wives  should  attend  to  it — like  Cleopatra  did  when  she  was  entertain 
ing  Antony  ;  so,  if  they  were  not  ready  for  one  when  it  was  cooked, 
several  more  would  be  forthcoming. 

Hop-O'-MY-TnuMB. 

And  this  is  the  attention  Lizzie  received  from  her  husband. 


SECRETS   TOLD. 


17 


ABOUT  HUSBANDS'  PRESENTS. 


So  you  didn't  even  thank  your  husband  for  his  beautiful  present  ?  A 
diamond  ring,  too;  because  he  could  not  come  to  bring  you  home  the 
very  day  he  promised  ? 

Oh,  you  goose !  Husbands  give  presents  too  rarely  for  them  to  be 
treated  lightly.  Take  advice  from  one  who  is  older  in  experience  of 
husbands  than  you  are  and  don't  do  so  any  more.  Do  you  know  what 
he  told  me  quietly  ? — that  it  would  be  a  long  time  before  you  got 
another. 

Now,  what  I  say  I  say  freely  and  without  prejudice,  both  to  you 
and  my  other  dear  friends.  Accept  any  and  every  present  your  hus 
band  gives,  always  with  smiles,  always  with  thanks;  praise  the  gift,  if 
you  can  one-twentieth  part  conscientiously,  or  admire  the  great  taste 
displayed  in  selecting  it;  go  into  raptures  over  it,  if  it  is  in  the  least  a 
rapture-inspiring  gift.  Depend  upon  it,  you'll  get  many,  very  many 
more  by  this  simple  process,  than  by  "Oh,  how  ugly!  What  did  you 
buy -that  for?  I  needed  shoes  so  much  more.  You  men  don't  know 
how  to  buy  anything.  Why  didn't  you  give  me  the  money  ?'  " 

e'  What  taste!  Why  the  pattern  is  only  fit  for  a  bed  quilt!  They've 
cheated  you;  you've  paid  twice  too  much  for  it." 

Now,  this  hurts  their  self-opinion,  and  what  husband  in  the  face  of 
such  talk — and  my  dear  female  friends,  you  know  this  is  no  fancy 
talk,  but  what  you  tell  those  poor  Benedicks  almost  every  present  they 
give  you — now  what  husband,  I  say,  will  be  constantly  bringing  home 
little  knicknacks,  and  you  know  very  well,  or  perhaps  you  don't,  that 
they  will  often  buy  little  things  for  you,  when  they  are  pleasantly  re- 


18  SECRETS    TOLD. 

ceived,  that  you  might  live  till  the  next  Centennial  and   they'd  never 
think  of  offering  you  the  money  to  buy. 

I  know  a  lady  whose  husband  returning  from  a  long  journey, 
brought  his  wife  two  dress  patterns;  one  a  silk — black,  striped  with 
yellow — the  other,  a  kind  of  red  damask.  "  Whew,  how  his  wife  will 
fret!"  I  thought,  as  he  pulled  them  so  tenderly  from  his  valise  and 
showed  them  to  me  so  admiringly.  What  could  I  say  ?  Well,  I 
smiled  and  said  they  were  very  nice;  so  they  were  for  some  things; 
damask  would  make  nice  curtains,  for  example;  the  silk  would  pass  if 
his  wife  had  been  a  little  gayer.  She  came  to  me  not  long  after,  with 
a  sad,  pitying  smile  on  her  face,  and  said: 

"Look!" 

,  "'Sh!  Don't  say  anything  against  them;  he  showed  them  to  me 
so  proudly.  The  silk  will  look  quite  nicely  made  up." 

' '  But  look  at  the  other,  the  one  I  wanted  so ;  it  looks  like  cur 
tains  or  furniture  covering." 

-  "  Why  it  will  make  a  splendid  morning  dress.  Don't  show  that  they 
do  not  please  you,  or  he  never  will  bring  anything  the  next  time  he 
has  an  opportunity."  She  took  them  sadly  and  went  away,  but  to  this 
day  I  never  saw  her  wear  them. 

Now  my  beloved  once  bought  me  a 
collar  among  other  really  useful  and  pretty 
things.  He  said  to  the  servants,  trium 
phantly  : 

"You  can't  guess  what  that  cost  ? " 
Our  new-made  citizens  of  color  grinned 
This  is  the  Collar.  and  said : 

"  Dunno,  Curnel !  "     They  take  pride  in  titles. 
"  Well,  for  what  I  paid  for  this  collar,  you  could  buy  two  barrels  of 
flour." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  19 

"De  Lor'  bress  us!"  and  they  gaped  wide-mouthed  looking  upon 
it  with  almost  awe. 

Of  course  I  was  delighted,  and  thanked  him  kindly  and  gave  him 
a  kiss  for  all  the  pretty  things  he  brought  me  ;  then  he  told  me  how 
the  lady  had  said  what  a  good  judge  of  laces  he  was ;  seldom  men 
could  tell  so  well,  etc.  I  suppose  she  was  young  and  pretty,  but  don't 
know — only  she  fooled  my  confiding  darling  most  terribly — for  the 
collar  was  imitation  Valenciennes,  sewed  on  by  no  means  fine  muslin 
garnished  with  two  cherry  satin  bows.  But  I  wore  it,  and  though  my 
lady  friends  knew  it  was  not  real,  I  never  let  him  know,  and  he  is  in 
ignorance  to  this  day,  that  he  is  not  one  of  the  finest  judges  of  laces 
in  the  world. 

I  remember  the  first  time  he  brought  home  a  loaf  filled  with  fried 
oysters;  he  had  been  out,  and  it  was  rather  late,  so  I  pouted  at  first, 
and  wouldn't  eat  any;  but  he  kept  good-natured,  ate  some,  and  said 
'Take  some,  Pet,  they  are  splendid!'  Well,  after  expressing  my  mind 
a  little  about  late  hours,  etc.,  I  did  eat  some,  and  they  were  splendid, 
so  I  finished  them,  and  the  natural  suavity  of  my  temper  returned. 

I  found  out  that  pouting  and  quarreling  with  the  oysters  did  not 
keep  him  from  going  out  when  he  wanted  to,  and  only  left  me  hungry 
to  go  to  bed.  I  hinted  for  oysters  next  time.  In  Philadelphia  they 
do  them  up  in  paper  boxes  and  give  them  an  expressive  name,  and 
more  wives  get  fried  oysters  than  they  ever  did  before. 

Never  tell  your  husband  he  is  wasting  money  when  he  brings  you 
home  a  petit  souper,  or  some  nice  strawberries,  for  depend  upon  it,  if 
he  don't  bring  them  to  you,  he  eats  them  himself,  and  how  much 
better  it  would  be  to  enjoy  them  with  him,  for  he  judges  you  by  him 
self,  thinking  that  you  appreciate  such  things,  and  that  good  eating  is 
one  of  the  greatest  pleasures  of  life;  and  after  all,  there  is  something 
in  it,  or  it  would  never  have  become  a  proverb  that  "  The  way  to  a 
man's  heart  is  through  his  stomach." 


20  SECRETS    TOLD. 

Oh,  ladies,  treat  these  little  attentions  kindly,  or  the  day  may  come 
when  you'll  have  no  little  attentions  to  treat  any  way  at  all.  Sing  to 
your  husbands, 

Dearest  love,  now  listen  to  me, 

When  you  feel  inclined  to  bring, 
Dress  or  collar,  boots  or  stockings, 

Or  some  less  pretentious  thing; 
Oh,  bring  your  presents  right  along, 

I  will  thank  you  with  a  kiss; 
Such  attentions  are  so  pleasing, 
And  so  seldom — that  'tis  bliss, 
To  be  so  honored. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


SERVANT  GIRLS. 


Why  our  wives  will  persist  in  hiring  those  hideous  China  boys 
when  there  are  so  many  nice  girls  to  be  had,  is  more  than  I  can  tell. 
Now  I  am  a  moral  man,  and  twenty  nice  girls  would  not  tempt  me. 
But  there  are  pros  and  cons  to  every  question.  I  am  on  the  pro 
side  at  present,  but  I  have  a  friend  who  is  on  the  con  side,  if  that 
means  against.  He  is  a  lean,  cadaverous  looking  man,  with  weary  eyes 
and  a  plaintive  voice.  One  evening  he  was  passing  our  door,  so  I 
asked  him  in,  but  my  wife  was  sitting  on  the  steps,  looking  smiling 
and  pretty,  so  he  shook  his  head  with  a  sigh,  and  asked  me  if  I  would 
not  walk  a  block  or  two  with  him  ;  my  wife  in  pity,  said,  "yes,  go,"  so 
I  went.  After  walking  a  short  distance  in  silence  he  began  : 

"It  is  a  good  thing  to  have  a  friend — one  to  whom  you  can  confide 
your  griefs,  that,  preying  on  you  alone  might  make  you  misanthropic. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  21 

My  friend,  you  are  still  young;  your  hair  is  brown  and  curly;  let  my  ap 
pearance  be  a  warning  to  you."  He  sighed  and  wiped  his  dewy  brow 
with  a  large  silk  handkerchief. 

"My  wife  is  a  good  woman,  but  she  employed  a  Chinaman,  and  my 
life  was  a  misery  ;  food  ill-cooked,  shirts  scorched  and  collars  limp. 
I  endured  it  like  a  good  husband,  till  he  took  the  size  of  the  iron  out 
of  the  bosom  of  my  best  shirt,  then  I  mildly  suggested  to  my  wife  that 
we  had  better  try  white  help.  I  didn't  say  girl,  so  my  wife  said  she'd 
see,  and  the  next  day  there  was  a  clean,  tidy  girl  around  the  house." 

"Your  wife  is  a  sensible  woman,"  I  remarked. 

He  gave  me  a  sad  look,  with  his  weary  blue  eyes,  and  continued  ; 
"You  are  right — we  got  along  nicely  for  several  days ;  food  well  done, 
shirts  perfection.  This  fact  I  remarked  to  my  wife,  saying  how  much 
pleasanter  they  were  to  wear,  done  up  by  clean,  rosy  fingers  than  by  a 
Chinaman,  whose  work  always  made  me  feel  uncomfortable.  I  did 
not  then  understand  the  peculiar  look  that  gleamed  in  her  eyes.  I 
got  up  a  little  earlier  than  my  wife,  so  Maria  used  to  tell  me  '  good 
morning'  very  pleasantly; and  as  I  sat  doing  my  writing  before  break 
fast,  it  was  cheerful  to  see  her  smiling  face  pop  in  and  out  on  various 
errands ;  'how  should  she  cook  this  or  that, '  '  did  I  like  my  coffee 
strong/  etc. ;  so  we  soon  got  well  acquainted,  but  knowing  my  wife 
was  particular  I  scarcely  spoke  to  her  when  she  was  about.  Our 
door  had  no  key,  and  I  suppose  I  used  to  forget  to  shut  it  tight,  for 
the  wind  used  to  make  it  screak  very  often  in  the  early  morning. 
One  night  my  wife  gave  me  a  severe  lecture — I  suppose  I  deserved  it; 
she  went  to  sleep  talking,  and  woke  early  and  finished  it,  so  I  arose  in 
not  a  very  amiable  temper  toward  her,  Maria  spoke  to  me  kindly. 
'Here,'  thought  I,  'is  one  who  cares  for  me.'  She  looked  so  nice,  too, 
that  I  suddenly  snatched  a  kiss  from  her  lips,  and  she  as  suddenly  ut 
tered  a  slight  scream.  The  devil  must  have  tempted  me.  Had  ten 
tuns  of  dynamite  been  under  the  house,  or  a  thousand  pounds  of  nitro- 


22 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


glycerine,  with  a  hundred  hammers  playing  Yankee  Doodle  on  the 

cans,  or  any  thing  that  was  terrible,  dire, 
devastating,  it  could  not  equal  the 
shock  that  disturbed  our  house.  Well, 
Maria  went  to  the  hospital,  and  I  wear 
a  wig."  Again  he  sighed,  and  I  did  not 
know  how  to  comfort  him. 

"Yes,  upon  the  whole/'  he  said,  "  I 
think  I  would  rather  have  the  Chinaman  ; 
they  do  not  lead  one  into  temptation, 
and  my  hair  is  getting  a  good  chance  to 
grow  underneath  the  wig." 

"My  friend,  you  should  have  been  a 
moral  man,  like  me." 

"  I  was  tempted  by  Satan,  but  my 
wife  is  an  exemplary  woman;  I  only 
got  my  deserts,  for  should  I  catch  her  kissing  a  young  man, 
there  would  be  no  need  of  hospitals  or  wigs ;  a  post-mortem  would  do 
them."  Again  he  sighed,  and  wringing  my  hand,  wended  his  way  to 
his  home.  And  I  began  to  muse  on  the  folly  of  men  who  neglected 
their  lawful  wives  who  endured  pain,  anguish,  and  many  times  depri 
vation  for  them,  to  kiss  the  servant  girl.  Depend  upon  it,  Oh, 
foolish  men,  the  servant  girl  whose  lips  are  free  to  you,  have  been  free 
to  every  man  before  you,  who  has  been  honored  by  her  presence  in 
his  home. 

Now,  I  am  a  moral  man,  yet  I  say  that,  to  those  of  us  who  get  up 
early,  as  many  of  us  do,  either  from  choice  or  necessity,  the  "yesee," 
"me  no  sabee,"  "belly  good,"  in  the  harsh  mongolian  voice,  and  the 
sickly  yellow  skin,  is  not  as  conducive  to  digestion  as  our  kindly 
mother  tongue,  and  a  rosy  face  and  cleanly  neck,  surrounded  by  a 


This  is  the  Wig. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  2 

white  collar.  But  my  wife  who  is  an  angel,  says  :  "There  is  but  one 
good  man  in  the  world,  and  each  of  us  think  we  have  him ;  so,  Pet,  I 
won't  place  temptation  in  your  way." 

.  "But,  my  dear,  I'm  a  moral  man,  and  not  to  be  tempted."  She 
laughed  lightly,  but  the  China  boy  staid.  I  know  my  wife ;  though 
small,  she  has  a  large  will  of  her  own,  and  just  enough  devil  in  her — 
as  well  as  angel — that  if  I  were  to  look  once  too  often  at  the  same 
woman,  let  alone  squeeze  her  hand  or  kiss  her,  that  she  would  put 
miles,  aye  leagues,  nay  even  the  briny  deep  between  us,  and  go  home 
to  her  ma  !  And  who  knows  but  she  might  leave  me  the  nursing  baby, 
too  ?  I  took  care  of  that  young  hopeful,  once,  for  just  one  half  hour, 
while  my  wife  went  to  a  neighbor's  to  borrow  a  book.  Shall  I  ever 
forget  it  ?  Never,  no  never  !  I  cannot  describe  in  words  what  I  suf 
fered  ;  no,. it  is  buried  down  deep  in  my  heart,  and  never  do  I  want 
even  the  memory  of  that  half  hour  to  be  renewed,  or  even  aroused 
again. 

"My  love,"  I  ventured  to  say  once  more,  "if  you  had  a  nice  girl, 
she  would  take  care  of  the  baby,  then  you  could  enjoy  yourself  so 
much  more." 

But  she  shook   her  head,  and  her  dark  eyes  sparkled  merrily. 

"Why,  love,  surely  you  don't  think  so  little  of  yourself  as  to  be  jeal 
ous  ?  How  could  I  think  of  any  one  else,  while  you  are  so  pretty  and 
attractive?" 

"Well,  I  like  my  morning  nap;  I  wouldn't  care  to  have  it  disturbed 
even  by  tantalizing  thoughts." 

4 'What  need  would  there  be  to  be  disturbed  ?" 

"Now,   it  is  no  use  to  talk,  Pet.     I  know  a  little  of  human  nature, 
and  I  wouldn't  want  to  be  tempted  too  far  myself." 
^Good  heaven!   what  did  she  mean?  What  a  storm  of  virtuous  indig 
nation  I  poured  upon  that    devoted  woman's  head  !  What  !  could  any 
thing  under  the  blue  sky  tempt  her  ?  I  was  horror-struck.     I,  myself, 


24  SECRETS   TOLD. 

knew  enough  of  human  nature,  to  be  aware  of  the  fact  that  some  men 
had  their  little  weakness  ;  thank  heaven  not  me  !  But  that  a  woman — 
demure,  sensible,  sensitive  little  woman,  should  acknowledge  to  her 
own  lord  and  master,  that  she  did  not  consider  herself  invulnerable  to 
all  the  temptations  that  all  the  world  could  bring  against  her,  sent  me 
into  a  cold  perspiration.  When  I  could  get  breath  from  the  exhaus 
tion  produced  by  the  severity  of  the  rebuke  I  gave  her,  I  said  with 
calmness  and  manly  dignity  : 

"Oh,   keep   your   Chinaman;    but  never   let  such  words  fall   from 
your  lips  again,  Madame!  "  So  the  China  boy  remains  till  this  day, 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 

And  this  is  what  Kate's  husband  says. 


WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  WITH  OUR  WIVES  ? 

"Only  one  hour  a  day,  Pet," 

"You  have  house,  servant,  and  children  to  look  after;  that's 
enough  to  occupy  your  time." 

"There's  only  ladies  in  the  class  I  want  to  join,  and  it's  very  cheap." 

"Put  such  thoughts  from  your  mind ;  you  have  no  time  for  painting 
and  such  stuff." 

The  wife  turned  away  with  a  sigh,  and  the  husband  went  to  his  daily 
occupation.  Now  do  you  know  that  husband  was  a well,  some 
thing  that  is  best  expressed  by  two  dashes. 

So  the  wife  washes  the  baby,  puts  him  to  bed  for  his  morning  nap, 
darns  a  pair  of  Pet's  stockings,  gives  directions  for  dinner,  and  then — 
well  the  day  is  so  lovely  and  her  hat  so  becoming,  that  she'll  just  take 
a  little  walk  down  town.  There  she  meets  an  old  beau,  for  where  one 
is  brought  up,  you  know,  there  is  always  one  or  two  old  sweethearts 


SECRETS    TOLD.  25 

lyifig  around.  How  strange !  He  also  has  an  errand  on  that  very  street, 
so  they  walk  and  talk,  and  the  time  passes  right  merrily.  So  when  she 
goes  home  to  her  solitary  lunch,  she  has  something  to  occupy  her 
thoughts — not  exactly  what  her  husband  wishes,  still  she  is  not  lit 
tering  the  house  up  with  her  accomplishments ;  and  as  he  does  not 
know  of  her  accidental  walks  and  talks,  he  is  all  serene. 

Now  when  I  marry,  my  wife  may  make  a  brick  yard  of  the  kitchen, 
and  a  paint  shop  of  the  parlor;  but  I'll  keep  her  thoughts  and  heart  to 
myself,  even  at  the  price  of  seeing  her  Pet — that's  your  humble  ser 
vant — reproduced  in  sickly  looking  plaster,  or  staring  out  of  very  open 
eyes  from  a  canvas,  and  the  little  Pets  ditto.  The  first  is  easily 
knocked  down  and  smashed,  and  made  fit  for  the  ash  barrel,  or  bro 
ken,  so  that  she  has  a  month's  work  to  put  it  together  again,  and  the 
second  soon  can  find  its  way  to  the  garret. 

,  We  forget,  we  men,  that  while  our  lives  are  busy  with  a  constant 
variety,  our  wives'  are  an  even  monotone ;  while  we  see  a  thousand 
faces  on  the  street  or  in  the  office,  they  see  the  baby's  and  the  China 
boy's,  with  perhaps  a  couple  of  callers  during  the  week.  Is  it  a  won 
der  that  they  chat  with  the  butcher,  the  baker,  the  candle-stick  maker, 
and  even  the  oysterman,  for  variety's  sweet  sake  ?  If  we  take  away  all 
their  intellectual  employment,  what  shall  they  do  ?  When  the  house  is 
in  order,  the  children  attended  to,  the  last  borrowed  book  read,  and 
nothing  to  sew,  what  shall  they  do  P  They  can't  be  making  baby 
clothes  all  the  time,  for  but  few  of  them  have  purses  of  their  own,  unless 
they  deal  in  stocks  ;  and  you  wouldn't  like  them  to  cut  holes  in  your 
best  coat  to  have  something  to  sew,  would  you,  now  ?  They  can't — 
figuratively  speaking —  roll  themselves  up  in  leaves  and  spin  their 
lives  out,  like  silk  worms,  for  some  one  else's  use,  can  they?  I  know  a 
poor  lady  who  occupies  her  time  in  constantly  changing  the  position 
of  the  furniture  ;  so  her  home  is  always  in  a  muddle,  and  she  has  a  far 
away,  dreamy  look  in  her  eyes.  Now  if  she  only  knew  how  to  enlarge 
her  sphere  of  action,  she  might  become  a  valuable  member  of  society. 
But  her  husband  don't  believe  in  woman's  rights  and  won't  tell  her 
what  to  do,  so  I  suppose  she'll  continue  changing  the  furniture  till  she 
goes  where  there's  no  furniture  to  change. 


26 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


You  don't  come  home  till  six  o'clock,  and  the  day  is  very  long,  and 
sometimes  very  weary  with  nothing  to  do.  Let  her  write,  if  only  once 
a  year  some  paper  condescends  to  accept  an  article,  and  most  of  her 
beautiful  thoughts  become  the  property  of  the  rag  man  at  so  much  per 
pound  ;  what  of  that  ?  It  keeps  her  at  home,  and  busy,  and  improves 
her  mind  a  little,  if  you  care  at  all  for  that. 

Now  I  have  a  friend  who  has  a  real  charming  little  wife,  whom  he 
leaves  with  a  kiss  at  breakfast,  when  he  don't  forget  it,  and  does  not 
see  her  again  until  six  at  night.  He  does  not  ask  her  what  she  has 
been  doing  all  day,  or  appear  at  all  interested  how  she  passes  the  time, 
if  the  dinner  is  good  and  the  house  clean,  all  his  buttons  on,  and  no 
holes  in  his  stockings.  He  tells  her  a  trifle  of  what  is  going  on  down 
town  ;  not  often  until  he  is  asked,  though,  and  being  tired,  in  a  little 
while  he  goes  to  bed ;  and  if  friends  call,  they  have  to  whisper  out  of 
the  window,  to  wait  a  moment  as  they  are  just  putting  the  children  in 
their  little  bed ;  and  such  a  hurrying  and  scurrying  on  of  pants,  boots 
and  petticoats  as  you  never  saw. 


These  are  the  Chi  dren 


SECRETS    TOLD.  27 

Now,  how  can  a  woman  be  a  companion  and  helpmeet  to  a  man  if 
he  won't  let  her  ? — and  he  is  only  a  type  of  thousands  of  others--es- 
pecially  when  they  wish  to  deprive  these  poor  women  of  everything 
but  housekeeping!  Good  gracious!  she  can't  be  thinking  of  something 
to  eat  all  the  time,  neither  can  she  be  constantly  washing  the  little  faces, 
until  the  turn-up  noses  are  red,  and  the  eyes  full  of  tears.  Ah  !  but 
she  has  one  outlet — glorious,  satisfying,  piquant-gossip!  Oh!  woman's 
friend!  How  many  weary  hours  do  you  fill  of  that  vapid  life  ?  How 
many  a  wrinkle  do  you  prevent  coming  on  that  face,  still  young,  that 
otherwise  would  be  brooding  at  home,  fancying  itself  ill-used  ? 

All  hail  to  thee,  Gossip  !  and  thy  kindly  uses,  hid  from  the  eyes  of 
the  vulgar  many ;  but  revealed  to  those  who  need  thee  most ! 

Well,  then,  what  shall  we  do  with  our  wives  ?  Give  them  plenty  of 
newspapers,  and,  books  too,  when  you  can  afford  them ;  let  them  dab 
ble  in  paint,  or  mudddle  in  clay  ;  write  poetry  or  prose  ;  go  to  the 
matinee  ;  or,  better  still,  take  them  at  night — there  is  less  temptation 
to  flirt.  Don't  always  go  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock,  but  play  a  game  of 
cards  or  chess,  or  bring  home  a  friend  once  in  a  while  to  spend  an 
evening  and  break  the,  to  you,  monotony  of  seeing  only  one  face  for 
a  whole  half  hour.  Tell  her  she  looks  nicely,  when  you  see  she  has 
tried  to  please  you,  and  don't  be  praising  somebody  else  before  her 
face.  Remember  she  has  feelings — if  she  did  marry  you.  Treat  her 
a  little  as  you  wish  to  be  treated  yourself ;  and  don't  forget  to  give  her 
some  pocket-money,  for  how  would  we  like  to  t>e  constantly  without  a 
cent  in  our  purse,  and  not  even  a  car  ticket  to  pay  for  a  ride  ? 
Yours  in  adversity, 

Hop-O'-MY-TmjMB. 

And  this  is  little  Pet's — Morgan's  wife's — secret. 


28  SECRETS   TOLD. 


DARNING  STOCKINGS. 


"Sweet  Rebecca,  charming  maid, 
Darning  stockings  in  the  shade." 

That's  the  way  the  poet  has  it. 

Pouting  wife  all  in  a  flury, 

Darning  stockings  in  a  hurry, 

Not  darning  in  poetic  shade, 

But  '  darning '  all  bad  hose  that's  made. 

That's  the  way  we  have  it.  Why  will  husbands  persist  in  wearing 
nails  in  the  inside,  instead  of  the  outside  of  their  boots?  Why  will 
they  endure  the  penance  of  Saint  Somebody,  who  had  to  wear  peas  in 
his  shoes,  Just  to  give  us  poor  wives  the  pleasant  torture  of  mending 
their  stockings.  It  is  so  easily  said : 

"There,  — it,  I've  no  clean  stockings!"  But  a  hole  as  big  as 
the  top  of  your  baby's  head,  is  not  so  easily 
mended,  and  if  we  do  take  the  advantage 
of  mending  the  stockings  with  the  smallest 
holes  first,  it  is  not  becoming  a  loving 
; husband  to  object  to  wear  odd  ones,  even 
if  one  is  a  little  thicker  than  the  other. 
Can't  they  make  a  little  concession  to  the 
tender  sex?  They  grant  it  so  often  in  politics 
and  business,  to  the  opposite  ditto.  Or 
These  are  the  Socks.  w^y  not  petition  the  manufacturers  tomake 

them  all  alike,  except  in  size  ?  Then  you  see  we  could  throw  away 
the  ones  with  the  big,  big  holes,  and  not  feel  so  guilty  as  we  would 
destroying  a  pair. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  29 

"Sweet  Rebecca!"  Here  we  have  a  picture  of  a  lovely  girl,  with 
delicate  white  hands,  and  slender  fingers,  that  never  burned  themselves 
with  pot  or  pan,  or  stove-lifter;  her  dress  trim  and  pretty,  her  apron 
white,  not  having  wiped  the  bottom  of  hot  dishes,  to  preserve  the 
purity  of  the  table  cloth.  "  Charming  maid!"  Knowing  not  yet  the 
maternal  occupation  of  attending  to  the  wants  of  nine  small  children; 
nine  little  faces  to  wash  and  heads  to  comb;  eighteen  little  hands  to 
scour,  and  thirty-six  little  shoes  and  stockings  to  put  on,  lace  and  tie, 
and  eighty-one  buttons  to  button.  And  this  all  expected  to  be  done  in 
ten  minutes  and  three-quarters.  Ah !  innocent  Rebecca,  do  not  add 
this  experience  too  soon,  but  keep  to  your  darning  stockings  in  the 
shade,  with  the  sunlight  just  gilding  your  hair;  the  birds  singing,  the 
sweet  grass  kissing  your  shoe.  The  work  in  your  hand,  perhaps  your 
own  fair  hose,  that  has  lovingly  encased  your  dear  little  foot  and — leg 
— or,  'tis  perhaps  a  lover's  sock  knit  by  your  fair  hand,  and  'tis  but 
pleasure  to  mend  the  slight  abrasions  caused  by  the  pressure  of  his 
loved,  manly  foot.  Dream  on,  fair  maid,  till  the  reality  of 

Great  big  holes  in  stockings  many, 

Little  time,  and  scarcely  any 

Inclination  for  the  pastime, 

Vowing  each  shall  be  the  last  time, 

That  you  will  spend  your  strength  and  time, 

In  darning  socks  not  worth  a  dime. 

With  cotton  coarse,  and  needle  small, 

That  scarcely  will  go  through  at  all; 

More  you  pull,  the  more  it  tangles, 

In  your  mind  with  words  it  jangles ; 

When  at  last  you  stick  your  ringer, 


O'er  that  sock  no  more  you'll  linger. 
Though  I  know  'tis  very  shocking, 
You're  apt  to  say  «d—  that  stocking," 


30  SECRETS    TOLD. 

Awakes    you,   alas!  it  will  come  too  soon,  and  with  it,  perhaps,  a 
frowsy  head  and  slip-shod  shoes,  and  a  husband  who  reads  the  paper 
at  breakfast,  and  blacks  his  boots  on  the  kitchen  table ! 
This  is  no  woman's  secret,  we  only  wish  it  was. 


"DANIEL  DERONDA." 

Hop-O'-My-Thumb's  Opinion. 

Book  of  many  wishes!  How  I  saved  up  my  pennies,  as  it  were, 
to  purchase  it.  When  I  read  that  the  author  had  already  received  the 
sum  of  eighty  thousand  dollars  as  royalty,  the  book  being  sold  in 
England  in  eight  parts,  at  five  shillings  per  part,  the  author  receiving 
one  pound  on  each  book  sold,  I  hardly  think  such  a  thing  was  ever 
heard  of  before.  My  desire  to  read  it  was  even  stronger  a  few  days 
after, ywhen  the  sum  reached  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  it  was 
still  marching  on,  leaving  every  known  writer  far  in  the  rear.  I  de 
termined,  whether  or  no,  to  make  Mr.  "Deronda's"  acquaintance — to 
see  him,  talk  with  him,  find  out  what  was  so  wonderful  about  him, 
that  he  should  have  taken  the  country,  of  dear  books  and  not  universal 
reading,  by  storm. 

'Twas  night,  and  by  the  feeble  light  of  a  street  car  lamp  I  unwrap 
ped  my  little  green  and  gold  treasure.  What  did  I  care  if  rny  fellow 
travelers  thought  I  was  trying  to  appear  the  pedant;  what  I  had  wished 
for  so  long  couldn't  be  enjoyed  too  soon.  I  passed  my  hand  caress 
ingly  over  the  neat  binding,  enjoying  the  sweet  anticipation  of  what 
was  to  come,  a  moment  longer,  then  opened  it. 

"  Man  can  do  nothing  without  the  make-believe  of  a  beginning. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  31 

Even  science,  the  strict  measurer,  is  obliged  to  start  with  a  make-be 
lieve  unit,  and  must  :fix  on  a  point  in  the  stars'  unceasing  journey 
when  his  sidereal  clock  shall  pretend  that  time  is  at  naught." 

This  is  what  first  met  my  eyes,  and  it  continued  at  some  length  in 
the  same  style.  "  Ah!  "  I  thought,  "  this  is  a  book  to  improve  one; 
the  headings  are  so  fine — a  little  mystical  and  obtuse,  requiring  study, 
but  perhaps  that  is  so  much  the  better."  Then  I  began  the  story.  It 
opens  in  a  German  gambling  saloon;  the  heroine,  Gwendolen,  an 
English  girl,  at  one  of  the  tables.  Now,  to  me,  there  is  something  un 
natural  and  repulsive  in  a  young  girl,  especially  an  English  girl,  as  a 
centre  object  in  such  a  scene.  I  was  disappointed,  and  the  further 
I  read  my  disappointment  did  not  decrease  till  I  came  to  near  the  end 
of  the  book.  Vol.  I.  Gwendolen  is  unloving  and  unlovable.  I 
scarcely  care  what  becomes  of  her.  The  description  of  her  person 
does  not  at  all  coincide  with  what  she  really  is.  I  use  the  ego  so 
much  because  this  is  the  opinion  of  but  one  person;  as  yet  I  have 
met  no  one  who  has  read  the  book,  but  those  that  have  may  consider 
it  "  grand,"  as  a  lady  told  me  she  heard  it  was;  but  I  shall  take  no 
one's  word  and  follow,  as  we  are  apt  to  do,  either  in  art  or  books, 
some  one  else's  lead,  as  we  did  in  childhood  with  "  Follow  my  Lady 
Tipsy  Toe."  I  know  I  run  the  risk  of  being  considered  conceited, 
setting  myself  up,  and  everything  that's  disagreeable,  if  I  have  an 
opinion  of  my  own,  and  that  opinion  is  different  from  that  of  the 
many.  But  I  never  could  say  an  Old  Master  was  superb  when  I 
thought  it  was  hideous. 

The  first  part  of  the  book  is  very  English,  with  the  nobility,  the 
Archery  meetings,  and  the  grand  parks.  It  does  not  come  home  to 
the  heart;  that  is  why  I  cannot  imagine  how  the  book  could  have  had 
such  a  wonderful  sale. 

Her  sketches  of  thought-life  are  very  good,  but  often  so  deep  and 
complicated  that  they  are  about  as  easily  understood  as  Greek  or  He- 


32  SECRETS   TOLD. 

brew,  to  one  who  knows  neither  of  these  languages,  and  has  only  a 
part  of  a  dictionary  to  help  them. 

For  instance,  is  not  this  hard  to  understand  ?  Is  it  not  a  little  too 
deep  and  far-fetched  ?  And  the  book  is  full  of  sudi : 

"Yet  how  distinguish  what  our  will  may  wisely  save  in  its  com 
pleteness  from  the  heaping  of  cat-mummies  and  the  expensive  cult 
of  enshrined  putrefactions  ?" 

Every  chapter,  too,  has  a  heading  about  as  obtuse  as  this. 

I  thought  a  book  to  be  popular  must  touch  the  universal  heart,  must 
be  so  imbued  with  sympathy  for  suffering,  must  so  scarify  hypocrisy 
and  evil-doing  that  their  hideousness  would  disgust  rather  than  fas 
cinate  ;  or  that  some  vital  question  of  the  present  must  be  so  pre 
sented  and  discussed,  that  we  poor  plodders  would  be  shown  the 
right  way,  and  helped  up  to  a  higher  plane.  But  none  of  these  ele 
ments  struck  me  in  my  coveted  book.  When  "Deronda  "  is  fully 
introduced,  a  little  of  human  sympathy  is  aroused  ;  we  can  easily 
think  that  something  is  going  to  happen  between  himself  and 
Gwendolen  in  the  next  volume,  (which  is  not  yet  out.)  But  she  must 
prove  very  different  from  what  she  is  at  present  for  any  one  to  care 
very  much  ;  for  a  woman  who  would  deliberately  marry  a  man  who 
has  a  left-handed  wife,  and  several  beautiful  children,  and  is  not  only 
warned,  but  sees  them,  and  although  she  flies  from  him,  the  minute 
poverty  comes,  she  accepts  him  very  complacently,  with  not  a  stir  of 
passion  in  her  heart  to  justify  her.  Then,  when  she  gets  another 
letter,  just  after  her  marriage,  only  telling  her  what  she  already  knew, 
she  shrieks  in  terror  at  her  husband's  approach,  we  consider  her 
not  only  a  very  foolish  girl,  but  almost  criminally  weak.  When  Myrah 
comes  on  the  scene,  together  with  the  Mayricks,  we  begin  to  feel  we 
are  with  a  human  family  again,  somewhat  like  people  we  have  known. 

I  expect  to  like  the  second  volume  very  much  more  than  the  first, 


SECRETS  TOLD.  33T 

for  I  anticipated  something  so  different,  which  not  getting — human 
like — I  would  not  be  satisfied  with,  and  perhaps  did  not  appreciate 
what  I  did  get. 


FASHIONABLE. 


Now,  we  like  to  be  fashionable;  we  don't  particularly  mind  the 
stings  and  arrows  that  outrageous  editors  hurl  against  us,  provided  the 
fashion  becomes  us.  We  know  that  the  side  views,  or,  to  speak  artisti 
cally,  the  profiles  of  some  of  our  lady  acquaintances  were  rather  on  the 
comical  order  when  the  hair  was  worn  high,  and  the  hat  on  the 
furthest  top  of  the  aforesaid,  so  we  avoided  the  extreme  of  fashion, 
although  by  doing  so,  we  might  as  well  have  been  out  of  world, 
according  to  the  old  saying.  So  we  thought  we'd  take  an  intermediate 
position,  somewhere  between  the  earth  and  space,  and  wear  our  hair 
not  so  high  and  our  hat  further  on  our  head.  How  the  ladies  could 
see  each  other  at  church  and  at  the  theatre,  and  observe  the  grotesque- 
ness  of  the  fashionable  hair  and  head  gear,  then  go  and  do  likewise, 
we  never  could  tell,  unless  their  idea  was  to  be  in  the  fashion  if  they 
dyed  for  it,  which  they  very  soon  did,  and  now  we  have  a  race  of 
blondes.  We  rather  liked  that  color,  and  begged  our  lord  and  master 
to  let  us  "  blonde"  a  little;  but  his  "  no"  was  so  stern  and  determined, 
that  being  a  little  woman  and  weak  we  didn't  dare  to  disobey.  True, 
we  might  have  been  like  one  pretty  young  lady  here,  who  blonded  so 
much,  or  so  suddenly  that  all  her  hair  came  out,  and  now  she  wears  a 
wig !  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi — or  rather  in  this  case — hair  dye. 

So  we  bought  a  military  chapeau,  that  came  well  on  our  head  and 
was  quite  stylish,  but  rather  large  ;  but  we  thought  it  was  the  hat 


34  SECRETS    TOLD. 

of  the  city,  till  we  got  tired  of  it.  Excuse  the  numerous  "we;"  but 
little  people  always  were  the  most  conceited  people  in  the  world, 
thinking  their  diminutive  individuality  equal  to  several  of  a  larger 
growth. 

Ah !  how  well  we  remember  our  first  pull-back  !  We  thought  it  the 
smoothest,  tightest  of  any  yet  out.  What  though  we  could  only  sit  on 
the  extreme' edge  of  the  car  seat,  it  made  us  an  object  of  interest,  and 
we  liked  that,  although  our  back  did  ache  a  little,  and  when  we  landed 
our  steps  had  to  be  very  short  and  "pit-i-pat  !"  But  what  was  our  hor 
ror  to  discover  tighter  and  smoother  ones  than  ours  mincing  along  the 
streets  ;  showing  shape  and  avoirdupois,  and  all  the  graceful  outline  of 
the  female  form  divine!  We  went  home  and  loosened  that  pull-back.  If 
we  could  not  be  first  we  would  at  least  be  comfortable.  We  know  of  but 
one  concession  being  made  to  a  pull-back  that  was  of  benefit  to  the 
wearer  of  aforesaid.  A  street-car  conductor  generously  remitted  the 
fine — excuse  us — didn't  take  the  fare  of  a  young  person  whose  long 
and  tight  P.  B.  would  not  allow  her  to  get  to  her  pocket,  being  en 
cumbered  with  a  sleeping  child. 

What  is  the  use  of  you  gentlemen  railing  against  the  styles  ;  you 
know  you  always  do,  no  matter  what  they  are;  and  yet  you  like  a  lady 
to  be  fashionable,  and  would  rather  take  a  dozen  to  the  theatre  dressed 
in  the  extreme,  than  one  attired  in  the  fashion  of  a  few  years  ago,  when 
an  immense  hoop  was  all  the  rage.  Whew  !  how  people  would  stare 
at  one  now. 

But  the  happy  medium  in  fashions,  as  in  most  other  things,  is  always 
the  best  and  most  comfortable  ;  but  it  is  not  every  one  who  has  the 
nerve  to  act  for  themselves.  Cultivate  your  nerves,  ladies,  cultivate 
them,  and  the  result  will  help  you  along  in  this  world  wonderfully. 

We  know  a  young  person  whose  husband  invited  her  for  a  short 
walk,  and  the  minute  she  appeared  on  the  street,  where  it  would  have 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


35 


been  rather  inconvenient  to  have  made  a  change  of  dress,  he  com 
plained  of  her  attire,  saying  : 

"You  look  like  the  Witch  of  Endor !  Is  that  the  way  you  go  down 
town  ?"  She  replied  meekly,  "I  did  not  know  you  wished  me  to  put  on 
my  best,  as  we  are  only  going  on  an  errand  to  the 
grocery.  It  would  have  taken  me  some  little 
time  to  do  so  ;  this  is  the  only  shawl  I  have,  and 
it  is  quite  cold."  It  was  a  red  affair,  with  a  huge 
pattern,  that  he  himself  had  bought  her,  her  taste 
rather  revolting  at  it,  at  the  time,  she  knowing  it 
would  be  the  only  one  for  the  next  ten  years. 
''Then  you  should  not  complain  of  my  clothes, 
without  putting  your  hand  into  your  pocket  and 
giving  me  the  wherewithal  to  buy  better.  One 
cannot  be  fashionable  on  nothing."  The  smile 
that  spread  over  his  face  was  childlike  and  bland, 
and  the  discussion  ended. 

At  another  time  ; 

"Why  can't  you  fix  yourself  as  nicely  as  when  Mrs. helped  you  ?" 

This  time  it  was  the  lady's  face  that  had  the  smile  childlike  and  bland, 
for  she  knew  the  distinguished  looking  white  veil,  satin   sacque,  and 

light  kids  belonged  to  the  aforesaid  Mrs. It  seemed  so  strange  to 

her,  that  her  husband  should  imagine  ladies'  finery  dropped  from  the 
clouds,  color  and  fit  adapted.  Did  he  get  his  boots  and  trousers  that 
way,  with  maybe  his  tobacco  thrown  in  ?  It  would  seem  that  many 
men  do,  for  they  are  sarcastic  and  complaining,  thinking,  no  doubt 
that  words  and  wishes  will  make  garments,  without  the  small  items 
of  materials  and  dressmakers  ;  but  it  would  be  cool  clothing  for  some 
climates.  Venus  rising  out  of  the  sea  is  all  very  beautiful  and  clasical, 


This  is  the  Shawl. 


36  SECRETS    TOLD. 

but  would  you  like  to  see  your  dear  little  wife  with  only  a  petticoat  of 
the  clinging  drops  of  the  briny  deep,  and  a  pull-back  of  the  foam  of 
the  mighty  wave?  Guess  not,  muchly. 
This  is  what  Frank's  wife  told  me. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


A  WOMAN'S  EXPOSE  OF  THE  MALE 
HOUSE-KEEPER. 

We  send  missionaries  to  the  Fiji  Islands;  we  send  missionaries  to 
the  black  Africans;  we  even  try  to  civilize  poor  Lo,  yet  we  pass  with 
calm  non-intervention  the  victim  of  worse  than  heathen  barbarity,  of 
worse  than  Indian  deviltry — the  wife  of  the  male  house-keeper.  How 
tame  these  words  to  express  her  utter  nonentity.  Hidden  in  them  lies 
to  the  one  who  has  "been  there  "  a  world  of  degradation  and  unhappi- 
ness!  If  a  man  only  knew  how  his  wife  suffered  mentally,  physically 
and  in  her  very  womanhood,  by  this  detention  of  the  household  purse, 
the  coin  will  burn  his  heart  as  well  as  hand. 

"  My  dear,  have  you  not  a  grocery-book,  and  is  our  credit  not  good 
at  the  butcher's?  What  can  I  do  more?  I'm  sure  the  children's 
clothes  are  warm,  if  they  are  plain."  Thus  he  talketh  and  thinketh 
he  doeth  his  duty. 

The  milk  man  comes. 

"When  can  you  pay  that  little  bill?"  but  as  neither  the  grocer's 
book,  nor  your  credit  at  the  butcher's,  provides  for  this  contingency, 
you  can  only  tell  him  to  "call  again;"  so  he  continues  to  call  till  his 
bill  becomes  long  and  his  patience  short;  and  if  you  get  the  money 


SECRETS    TOLD.  61 

any  sooner  than  your  husband  thinks  it  right  and  proper  he  should 
wait,  you  do  it  by  absolute  quarreling,  and  it  is  as  grudgingly  given  as 
if  it  were  for  the  most  useless  luxury,  as  if  he  did  not  drink  it  in  his 
coffee,  in  his  whisky  and  with  his  bread. 

Then  John  Chinaman  brings  home  the  necessary  weekly  linen. 

"  Pay  next  weekee,  John."  You  can't  always  make  John  understand 
this,  and  so  are  edified  by  several  visits,  till  you  talk  the  money  out  of 
your  husband  in  sheer  desperation.  The  dry  goods  you  can  get  at  the 
grocer's  you  are  welcome  to;  but  as  that  generally  amounts  to  needles, 
cotton  and  shirt  buttons,  with,  may-be,  hairpins  and  braid,  your 
chances  for  a  Summer  dress  are  t.  t. — terribly  thin — and  you  are  told 
you  don't  "  fix  up"  like  you  did  before  your  marriage,  but  the  hand 
never  goes  into  the  pocket  to  give  you  the  wherewithal  to  obtain  the 
much  desired  end.  You  are  twitted  with  not  being  stylish,  and  you 
haven't  seen  a  new  dress  for  more  than  a  year  except  on  somebody  else, 
perhaps  your  "  lady  help,"  for  she  can  dress  in  style,  the  male  house 
keeper  having  to  pay  her  whether  stocks  are  up  or  down,  or  business 
bad  or  good.  Perhaps  you  take  an  economical  fit  and  do  the  work, 
your  d.  h.  (that's  "  dear  husband")  promises  to  pay  you  instead  of  the 
aforesaid  "help"  thereby  saving  the  keep  of  one;  but  at  the  end  of  the 
month  he  has  forgotten  his  promise,  and  says  he 
CAN'T  AFFORD  IT  ! 

When  the  grocer  has  no  needles,  pins  and  stamps,  you  are  in  a 
terrible  fix.  The  "news"  in  your  letters  becomes  "olds,"  lying  on 
the  mantle-piece  waiting  for  the  portrait  of  the  Father  of  his  Country 
to  be  affixed  thereon,  and  as  for  pins,  how  are  the  young  ladies  to  pin 
up  the  holes  in  their  stockings  without  them?  I've  seen  two  do  it, 
and  the  other  day  a  lady  I  know  hunted  all  over  her  five  rooms  on 
hands  and  knees  to  find  a  needle  to  sew  a  button  on  her  husband's  shirt. 
She  spent  an  hour  and  a  half  of  time  and  then  only  succeeded  in 


38  SECRETS  TOLD. 

finding  a  poor,  miserable,  crooked  one  that  had  never  been  lost,  and 
too  small  at  that;  so  she  had  to  take  her  fortune — twenty-five  cents 
that  lay  concealed  in  her  best  dress  pocket — and  sally  forth  to  purchase 
some.  The  tears  nearly  came  to  her  eyes,  to  think  that  she  had  to 
demonetize  this  huge  piece  of  silver,  the  like  of  which  she  did  not 
expect  soon  to  see  again,  except  in  broker's  windows;  but  the  hus 
band's  buttons  must  be  sewed  on,  if  banks  break! 

"My  dear,  I  must  have  some  money  ;  there  is  no  use  talking." 
"Oh,  don't  bother  me  about  money.     I'm  sick  of  the  subject." 

"BUT  THE  CHILDREN'S  CLOTHES — " 

'  'That'll  do.  I  hate  almost  to  come  into  the  house."  Then  he 
slams  the  door  and  goes  and  consoles  himself  at  the  corner,  playing 
for  the  cigars,  and  loses  fifty  cents  to  a  dollar,  and  considers  it  nothing, 
for  it  goes  on  the  book  ;  and  the  end  of  the  month  is  no  better  than 
the  beginning  to  the  wife  of  the  male  house-keeper.  The  children  go 
in  patched  and  repatched  rags,  and  the  wife  wears  her  Winter  bonnet 
in  the  scorching  July  sun,  till  it  makes  her  head  ache.  Women  don't 
like  to  ask  and  ask  and  ask  for  every  little  article  of  clothing,  till  they 
feel  as  if  they  were  the  poorest  and  most  importunate  of  beggars,  so 
they  look  dowdy,  and  their  underclothes  leave  them  by  peacemeal,  and 
still  the  male  housekeeper  is  blind.  "I  buy  so  much  better  meat  than 
you  do,"  he  says,  with  pride,  forgetting  that  if  by  chance  he  gives  her 
the  market  money,  once  in  an  age,  he  expects  her  to  make  it  go  twice 
as  far  as  he  does.  I  know  a  gentleman  who  cannot  make  twenty-five 
dollars  a  week  keep  his  house,  but  is  going  to  be  generous  and  let  his 
wife  try  and  do  it  with  ten !  No  knocking  down  in  that  house  for 
pull-backs  of  five  cent  calico,  or  six-bit  hats,  or  the  unheard  of  luxury 
of  a  Saturday  matinee.  It's  pinch  and  contrive  and  hunt,  but  never 
cajole.  Most  women  are  too  proud,  thank  Heaven,  for  that.  The 
male  housekeeper  is  always  the  man  who  has 


SECRETS  TOLD. 


A  GROCERY  BOOK, 

That  curse  of  a  small  salary;  that  curse  to- 
economy;  that  precursor  to  the  poor-house  L 
Oh!  why  cannot  these  liquor-selling,  gamb 
ling  corner  groceries  be  supressed!  They 
are  the  causes  of  more  divorces,  more  sep 
arations,  more  female  infidelities  than  all  the 
incompatibilities  of  temper  the  world  over. 
The  Book.  Men  will  not  be  warned  till  it  is  too  late.  A 

lady  friend  of  mine  who,  a  few  years  ago,  was  living  in  loving  happi 
ness  with  her  husband,  startled  me  with  the  news  of  her  divorce.  "  It 
began  in  the  corner  groceries,"  she  said,  and  thousands  can  truthfully 
say  the  same.  Because  a  woman  joins  her  destiny  to  a  man  from  pure 
love,  leaving  a  happy  home  and  loving  friends,  is  it  right,  that  after 
the  first  three  days  he  should  shamefully  neglect  her  for  the  miserable, 
common  trash  that  loaf  about  a  corner  grocery  ?  Is  it  right  that  she 
shall  stay  in^  the  house,  not  home,  without  her  husband,  alone  and 
silent,  shedding  bitter  tears  and  thinking  dangerous  thoughts  till  12, 
till  1.  nay,  sometimes  till  2  strikes  from  the  ghostly  clock  ?  When  a 
man  has  several  small  children,  he  knows  his  wife  is  so  tied  down  that 
she  cannot  resent  his  insulting  indifference  without  outraging  her 
mother  love,  so  he  takes  his  cue  accordingly,  and  neglects  her  to  his 
heart's  content,  not  caring  that  she  grows  thin,  and  pale,  and  old,  and 
haggard  ;  not  caring  that  she  almost  prays  for  death  to  release  her  from 
the  sufferings  of  a  seemingly  unloved  wife.  So  the  male  housekeeper 
keeps  his  grocery  book  and  his  butcher's  book,  and  his  house  looks 
neglected  and  poverty  stricken — no  pictures,  no  ornaments,  no  books, 
he's  sick  of  such  nonsense — his  children  are  poorly  dressed,  his  wife 
ditto,  and  he  always  in  debt,  paying  more  for  what  he  gets,  purchasing 
what  he  cannot  afford,  treating  old  bummers  to  drinks  and  cigars,  so 


40  SECRETS    TOLD. 

generous,  and  still  spends  more  than  his  wife  would,  making  the  house 
bright  and  pleasant,  herself  and  children  lovable  with  pretty  clothes, 
and  every  bill  paid — all  to  be  a  male  housekeeper  ! 

TIGER 

(In  the  cause  of  women). 
Several  women's  secret. 


THE  WRONG  WROUGHT  BY  A  CORNER 
GROCERY. 


I  never  wrote  an  article  for  a  paper  in  my  life,  but  I  have  been 
tempted  many  times  to  do  so,  and  after  carefully  reading  the  article  in 
your  Ladies'  Column  this  morning,  in  regard  to  "corner  groceries" 
and  male  "house-keepers,"  I  made  up  my  mind  that  for  once,  I  would 
say  a  few  words  thereto,  indorsing  every  sentiment.  I  have  been  suf 
fering  for  fourteen  years  from  the  comer  groceries,  and  if  I  had  the 
power  to  suppress  the  awful  evil  there  should  not  one  remain  to  tell 
the  story.  In  all  these  years  I  never  possessed  a  pocket-book,  never 
bought  an  article  of  dress,  never  had  a  half  or  a  quarter  of  a  dollar 
unless  I  earned  it  myself;  and  when  I  did  receive  my  salary,  it  was 
borrowed,  but  never  returned  in  a  single  instance.  I  looked  up  to  my 
husband  as  the  provider,  and  felt  I  must  carefully  keep  the  house  in 
order  and  do  my  work  and  sew  for  my  family,  and  ask  no  questions. 
Years  bring  experience,  and  a  person,  if  he  have  any  sense  at  all, 
must  see  sometime  that  this  is  not  the  life  intended  by  our  Heavenly 
Father  for  intelligent  beings.  The  wife  is  never  consulted,  as  she  can- 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


41 


not  understand  business.  (There  is  truth  in  that,  too;  one-sided  bus 
iness  never  suits  an  intelligent  woman  who  lives  to  advance  goodness, 
charity  and  purifications  of  all  evils  that  are  ready  to  spring  up  in  a 
night).  My  belief  of  the  married  relation  is,  that  if  two  are  one  by 
Divine  order,  then  one  is  the  companion  of  the  other,  and  not  one  the 
servant  and  one  the  commander.  Oh,  how  true  it  is  in  such  a  rela 
tion  that  the  corner  grocer's  bill  is  the  result !  I  am  one  of  many  who 
have  had  brown  hairs  prematurely  sprinkled  with  gray,  and  wrinkles 
deeply  set  before  youth  had  fairly  reached  its  maturity.  My  husband 
could  not  afford  to  subscribe  for  a  daily  paper — at  a  salary  of  $150 
per  month — so  he  must  necessarily  go  to  the  corner  night  after  night. 


This  is  the  Corner  Grocery. 

Unsuspectingly  I  saw  him  go  for  years,  and  night  after  night  I  placed 
my  house  in  order  and  the  little  ones  to  rest,  and  when  quiet  reigned 
I  sat  and  sewed  and  mended,  and  thought  how  strangely  different  my 
life  was  from  what  I  expected  it  to  be.  I  gave  him  all  the  love  that  a 


42  SECRETS   TOLD. 

true  woman  had  to  bestow,  and  I  think  he  loved  me  in  his  way,  and 
thought  he  was  doing  a  husband's  duty.  But,  oh,  how  it  differed 
from  mine  or  any  other  true  woman's  idea  of  love  and  wifely  treat 
ment  !  The  end  came  at  last,  and  the  result  was  the  inevitable  one,  of 
course — poverty  and  debt;  and  he  escaped  to  a  foreign  land  to  die  by 
his  own  hand  from  remorse,  leaving  wife  and  children  to  the  mercy  of 
creditors,  and  to  bear  the  shame  of  years,  of  a  past  mis-spent  in  the 
corner  groceries,  playing  for  drinks  and  cigars.  I  have  not  magnified 
my  wrongs;  I  could  fill  pages,  but  that  would  not  suffice.  This  is  a 
subject  that  should  not  be  dropped  in  one  hour.  Will  not  some  one 
continue  to  write  with  a  pen  of  fire  and  place  this  awful  evil  in  its  true 
light,  and  take  up  the  thread  that  "Tiger"  has  laid  down,  and  never 
cease  to  tell  all  the  evils  attending  the  corner  groceries  and  the  card 
table,  and  bars  concealed  behind  the  lattice  door,  the  open  sesame  of 
all  family  discord  ?  TIGRESS. 

This  was  written  by  some  one  unknown  to  the  author,  in  answer  to 
the  foregoing. 


GEORGE'SWIFE'S  OPINION  ON  BOOKS. 

I  was  sitting  in  my  office — you,  no  doubt,  think  by  this  time  I  need 
a  new  bifurcated  garment,  sitting  so  much,  but  the  fact  is,  a  person 
does  not  consume  so  much  oxygen  in  this  sedentary  occupation,  as 
when  exercising  the  pedestrian  qualifications,  and  as  free  lunches  ne 
cessitate  ten  to  fifteen  cent  investments,  and  sometimes  being  out  of 
such  small  amounts — I  sit,  and  button  my  coat  up  as  tightly  as  possi 
ble,  not  having  a  belt  to  use  as  the  Indians  do,  when  their  larder  is 
nihil — this  is  explanatory  merely,  so  I'll  continue — thinking  about  the 


SECRETS   TOLD.  43 

advisability  of  writing  a  triumphant  ode,  now  that  the  election  is  over 
and  the  country  safe,  but  soon  the  sad  fact  occured  to  my  mind,  that 
poetry  is  rarely  paid  for  by  newspaper  men,  and  although  it  is  the  des 
sert  after  the  feast  of  substantial  facts,  still  they  think  the  glorification 
of  seeing  one's  name  in  print  is  sufficient  reward,  when  I  was  inter 
rupted  by  the  agreeable  sound  of  George's  wife's  footsteps.  She  is 
always  welcome,  for  her  pleasant  chat  makes  me  forget,  for  the  time, 
my  troubles;  then,  too,  she  does  not  come  so  often  as  to  wear  her 
welcome  out  and  also  exhaust  her  conversational  subjects. 

"Come  in,  my  dear,"  I  cried,  opening  the  door  with  alacrity. 

"Uncle  John,  I'm  so  glad  to  >see  you!  You  are  the  only  one  to 
whom  I  can  go  when  I  am  in  trouble  or  have  a  knotty  point  to  settle; 
and  do  you  know  I've  made  a  discovery?"  she  said,  sinking  into  my 
big  leather  chair,  to  which  I  had  led  her. 

"A  Discovery?"  I  said,  pulling  up  my  paper  collar,  and  running 
my  fingers  through  my  hair. 

"And  I've  come  to  talk  with  you  about  it  while  it  is  fresh  in  my 
mind." 

Visions  of  a  splendid  royalty  in  some  grand  beneficial  invention, 
which  I  should  help  put  on  the  high  road  of  success,  flitted  through 
my  mind,  when  Louisa  again  spoke. 

"Yes,  I've  discovered,  Uncle  John,  that  all  books  are  immoral!" — 

I  looked  at  the  young  thing  in  horror;  was  she  losing  her  senses  ? 

"That  is,  most  of  them,  and  I've  come  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
are  not  much  of  a  success  unless  they  are." 

"Louisa!"  I  said,  reprovingly,  thinking  that  marriage  must  have  had 
a  very  bad  effect  on  her. 

"Oh!  I  don't  mean  with  me,  Uncle  John,  but  with  the  great  en 
lightened  public.  It  seems  strange  too,  for  if  we  married  women  did 
half  the  wicked  things  the  pet  heroines  of  the  successful  books  do, 
wouldn't  the  divorce  courts  be  busy,  and  wouldn't  the  lawyers  become 


44  SECRETS   TOLD. 

nabobs  for  wealth!  In  France,  of  course,  its  different,  if  the  stories  told 
of  that  delightful  country  are  true.  Why,  I  read  of  a  certain  Countess 
who  spent  all  her  days  in  deeds  of  charity  and  missions  of  mercy, 
the  aspect  of  demure  innocence,  yet  her  nights  were  riotous  with  licen 
tious  dissipation,  she  was  the  gayest  of  the  gay  and  the  wickedest  of 
the  wicked,  yet  when  she  was  ai  rested  she  had  dozens  of  offers  of  mar 
riage,  some  saw  so  much  romance — I  don't  fancy  they  could  see  much 
to  love — in  the  two  lives  of  the  beautiful  fiend." 

"But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  books,  my  dear,"  I  said  gently, 
trying  to  bring  her  back  to  the  subject.  "Our  own  fireside  Dickens, 
you,  of  course,  except  him?" 

"Indeed  I  don't.  Let  us  begin  at  any  of  his  most  popular  works, 
say  David  Copperfield,  for  instance.  There's  little  Em'ly;  he  had  to 
make  her  bad  to  render  her  interesting,  no',  bad  in  heart,  but  bad  in 
act,  and  poor  Martha  was  a  few  steps  lower  down  the  ladder.  Then 
'Dombey  and  Son/  though  Mrs.  Dombey  was  not  frail,  still  she  was 
a  runaway  wife.  In  this,  too,  he  pictures  a  poorer  sister,  wretched 
and  bad,  though  handsome  and  interesting — unfortunate  Alice.  If 
the  heroine  doesn't  happen  to  be  bad,  then  one  of  the  principal  per 
sonages  must  be,  or  the  book  is  weak,  lacks  fire  and  so  forth.  Look 
at  beloved  Goethe.  I  get  so  angry  at  him,  especially  in  his  affinity 
piece,  that  I  would  like  to  read  him  a  moral  lecture,  could  he  be  in 
duced  to  appear  at  some  circle  or  cabinet  seance.  Why,  one  would 
think  in  reading  him,  I  mean  his  writings,  that  it  was  absolutely  ne 
cessary  to  become  a  married  woman  before  one  could  have  any  power 
to  attract  a  lover.  Then,  too,  what  are  the  poor  married  folk  to  do  if 
they  don't  happen  to  be  like  Goethe  people,  both  in  love  with  some 
body  else  ?  Then  the  child  part  of  the  story,  who  looks  like  both  the 
outside  lovers,  I  think  rather  too  peculiar  for  good  taste.  But,  then, 
not  to  admire  Goethe  is  heresy!  And  to  think  Shakespeare  is  a  vulgar 
old — well,  I  don't  know  that  he  was  so  very  old,  but  he  is  insufferably 


SECRETS   TOLD.  45 

vulgar  in  some  of  his  plays.  Look  at  his  * Measure  for  Measure]  for 
instance;  but,  then,  not  to  think  him  an  earthly  divinity  is — oh,  my! 
— almost  sacrilege.  And,  then,  the  Old  Masters!" 

"  Louisa!  "  I  held  up  a  warning  finger.  Where  was  she  going  to 
stop  ? 

"  Oh!  don't  stop  me,  Uncle  John,  for  directly  I  am  going  to  draw 
a  deduction.  After  all,  novels  are  not  much  worse  than  real  life.  See 
how  your  La  Valieres  and  Montespans  and  Pompadours  are  handed 
down  to  posterity,  and  even  your  Camilles  and  Cora  Pearls/' 

1 '  Don't  say  mine,  Louisa,"  I  remonstrated. 

"  Oh!  when  I  say  '  yours/  Uncle  John,  I  am  letting  you  represent 
the  world;  but  for  you,  individually,  you  know  I  think  you  a  model. 
But  the.  deduction  I  was  going  to  make — thinking  over  all  I've  read, 
good,  bad  and  indifferent,  translations  from  popular  French  works, 
the  chaste  opera-bouffe,  the  lives  of  most  monarchs,  and  the  sweet 
society  divorce  drama — was  this,  that  the  reading  of  such  things,  and 
it  seems  to  be  the  bulk  of  what  is  popular,  tended  strongly  to  make  a 
young  girl,  or  even  a  married  woman,  think  she  must  be  a  little  fast, 
if  not  worse,  to  be  anybody  at  all  ;  and  to  make  the  men  not  only 
think  of  following  the  example  set  them  in  books,  but  to  try  and  far 
excel  their  prototypes."  I  was  struck  dumb,  and  as  she  paused  I 
knew  not  what  to  say,  for  I  knew  that  George's  wife  was  telling — alas ! 
only  the  truth. 

"Well,  Uncle  John,  can't  you  propose  a  remedy?" 

"A — hem  !  I — I — did  you  ever  read  metaphysics,  or  study  botany, 
or  geology,  or  astronomy,  or — '' 

"  Uncle  John,  Pope  says,  '  The  study  of  mankind  is  man/  and 
that's  what  I'm  studying  ;  but  I  should  like  to  discover  something  to 
better  them — and — yes — I  think  I  would  tell  it  to  George." 

I  smiled  quietly,  thinking  that  that  same  George  was  the  keystone 
of  much  of  this  young  lady's  homily. 


46  SECRETS    TOLD. 

11  Uncle  John,  outside  of  the  great  immorality  of  so  much  that  is 
written,  isn't  there  a  great  deal  that  is  ridiculous — the  so-called  'funny 
men'  and  some  of  the  dramatic  critics  ?  I  have  seen  some  of  them, 
with  their  little  pasteboard  passports  from  their  papers,  with  their  long 
hair  and  cadaverous  faces,  that  looked  as  if  they  hadn't  square  meals 
enough  to  supply  both  bodily  and  mental  food  ;  and  then  those  ex 
pressive-eyed  ones,  especially  when  they  wear  petticoats,  how  vicious 
they  can  be  ;  they  can  sting  like  a  gnat,  or  an  ant,  or  a  flea  ;  or  if  a 
little  jealousy  (woman-like)  is  allowed  to  influence  their  judgment, 
how  spiteful  they  can  be ;  then  those  handsome  fellows,  who  think, 
like  the  Pope,  that  their  judgment  is  infallible,  don't  they  know  that 
they  are  not  the  whole  public,  but  only  an  infmhesimally  small  part — 
and  not  the  paying  part,  either — and  that  they  scarcely  represent  the 
opinion  of  more  than  their  beautiful  selves.  They  forget  that  they  are 
blase,  having  seen  the  Keans  and  Macreadys  and  Forrests,  and  per 
haps  the  great  Siddons  ;  but  as  these  people  can't  come  to  life  again, 
even  for  the  sake  of  comparison,  and  thus  this  generation  has  to  be 
contented  with  the  living  people  of  to-day,  and  that,  though  they  have 
seen  everything,  most  of  the  other  people  have  not,  and  can  see  beauties 
in  what  they  have  grown  too  callous  to  appreciate.  Young  blood? 
Uncle  John,  is  what  is  needed  in  the  critics  of  to-day ;  not  those  who 
have  known,  seen  and  enjoyed  everything,  so  are  almost  worn  out  and 
surfeited  with  the  pleasures  of  this  world." 

"  Louisa !     Louisa  !     Where  will  your  tongue  lead  you  ?" 

"Uncle  John,  I've  not  been  out  of  the  house  for  two  weeks,  so  I'm 
dying  to  talk.  The  only  call  I've  had  was  Mrs.  Jones,  who  told  me 
no  end  of  how  to  make  old  dresses  into  new  ones,  costing  more  in 
the  end  than  buying  them  right  out,  and  as  George  has  not  given  me 
any  money  lately,  her  visit  was  not  interesting.  Oh  !  Uncle  John,  do 


SECRETS    TOLD.  47 

come  home  with  me  to  lunch,  I'm  so  desperately  lonely  it  would  be 
doing  a  charitable  deed." 

So  I  thought,  and  went. 

More  anon. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


ONE  MORE  UNFORTUNATE. 

"Oh!  I  remember,  it  is  New  Year's  Day.  The  last  brought  many 
changes.  This  day  twelve-months  !  Ah  !  Nanine  those  days  are  gone 
— the  day  that  brings  new  life  to  every  heart." 

So  said  poor  Camille,  as  she  lay  dying,  neglected  and  alone.  Only 
poor  Gaston,  at  whom  she  used  to  laugh,  smoothing  her  pillow,  and 
Nanine  the  faithful  servant,  her  only  friend.  Yet  for  poor,  poor 
Camille's  few  brilliant  years  of  gilded  sin,  how  many  go  to  a  wretched, 
degraded  grave,  forgotten  before  the  grass  springs  above  their  coffin- 
lid,  thousands  following,  seeing  no  lesson  in  the  short,  erratic  life,  the 
poison  or  the  dark,  unpitying  water,  that  opens  to  them  the  gates 
leading  to  the  Shadowy  Valley,  not  heeding  the  poor  girl's  dying  words: 

"It  is  wise,  it  is  well,  it  is  just!  I  have  been  guilty  !  Living,  the 
memory  of  that  guilt  would  haunt  me  like  a  spectre,  darkening,  with 
its  fearful  shadow,  my  passage  to  the  close !" 

And  we  wonder  and  wonder,  how  can  such  things  be ! 

Across  the  street,  in  a  great  city,  in  a  fine,  clean,  quiet-looking 
house,  lived  two  women,  with  plenty  of  servants,  elegant  clothes,  a 
carriage  at  their  command  and  nothing  to  do,  but  the  world  said  they 
were  fast,  that  their  lovers  bid  them  good-bye  early  in  the  morning, 
ashamed  for  even  the  daylight  to  know  their  hiding-places.  Opposite 


48  SECRETS   TOLD. 

lived  a  pretty,  ignorant  young  girl,  lazy,  slovenly,  sometimes  almost 
lacking  food,  a  mother  of  whom  she  was  only  just  a  natural  copy. 
She  looked  with  envy  at  the  elegant  females  across  the  street,  as  they 
dashed  away  in  the  fine  carriage,  the  stout,  respectful  negress  servant 
admiringly  waiting  to  see  them  off.  No  word  of  warning  uttered  in  her 
ear,  no  picture  of  the  white-robed  ghost  stealing  through  the  narrow, 
dimly-lighted  streets,  to  prey  upon  some  wretch,  disgusting  and  re 
pugnant  to  the  lowest  semblance  of  woman,  only  for  her  daily  bread  ; 
nothing  but  the  bright  side  presented  to  her  \iew,  can  one  wonder  that 
she  falls? 

That  the  one  more  unfortunate  is  not  multiplied  a  thousand-fold  is 
the  greatest  wonder  when  one  looks  beneath  the  surface  of  the  world's 
sufferers.  The  world's  workers  are  not  the  ones  who  fall ;  it  is  the 
romantic,  the  lazy,  the  disappointed,  the  betrayed.  It  is  not  the  girl 
with  the  stout  heart  and  courage  enough  to  work  for  her  living,  even 
if  it  is  at  a  despised  factory,  sewing  shoes  or  binding  books,  or  at  the 
thousand  and  one  occupations  now  open  to  women  ;  it  is  not  the 
happy,  cherished  daughter,  whose  mind  is  filled  with  household  duties, 
helping  mother,  or  reading  well  selected  books,  with  a  natural  love 
for  the  little  sisters  and  brothers — lending  them  the  assistance  remem 
bered  so  well  in  after  years,  so  needed  in  their  studies  and  in  their 
play — with  taste  cultivated  (if  only  to  sing  a  simple  ballad,  or  sketch  in 
pencil),  whose  mind  is  occupied,  leaving  no  room  for  foolish  vanity, 
that  too  often  leads  to  crime. 

It  is  not  the  loved  wife,  whose  husband  thinks  it  not  unmanly  to 
love  his  home,  to  take  the  baby  on  his  knee,  to  relieve  his  companion 
of  a  little  of  the  care  that  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  happiest  wife  and 
mother,  who  is  not  ashamed  to  walk  with  his  wife  and  little  ones, 
knowing  how  they  enjoy  it,  even  if  he  does  help  to  draw  the  little 
wagon. 

It  is  not  these,  whose  prayers  should  rise,  morning  and  night,  thank- 


SECRETS    TOLD.  49 

ing  God  for  their  happiness — it  is  not  these  who  are  picked  from 
the  dark  waters  of  the  river,  or,  on  the  tables  of  the  Morgue,  make  a 
pitiful  show  for  the  unpitying. 

It  is  the  poor,  weak  girl,  with  little  to  do,  whose  mind  is  vitiated  by 
bad  books,  whose  home  is  unhappy,  whose  idleness  gives  Satan  his 
best  chance  ;  or  the  selfish,  lazy  one,  who  thinks  it  better  to  be  well 
dressed  and  bad — "  others  are  " — than  a  drudge  and  virtuous.  It  is 
the  disappointed,  neglected  wife,  still  young,  still  pretty,  still  romantic, 
who  feels  so  keenly  the  difference  between  her  home,  where  she  re 
ceived  so  much  attention,  the  many  friends,  the  suitors,  who  were  so 
eager  for  her  smiles  ;  and  the  quiet,  quiet  house,  where  the  ticking 
of  the  clock  is  the  only  voice  to  break  the  stillness  far  into  the  night, 
where  she  can  sob  in  vain  for  the  presence  of  the  one  who  vowed  to 
cherish  her,  but  who,  too  soon,  alas,  thinks  it  unmanly  to  be  tied  to  a 
woman's  apron  string ;  who  goes  back  to  the  pastimes  of  his  bachelor 
hood,  forgetful,  or  not  caring  that  at  home  is  a  sorrowful,  waiting 
woman,  who  endures  neglect  and  loneliness  till  endurance  is  a  torture 
and  revengeful,  bitter  feelings  makes  her  a  fit  prey  for  the  Evil  One, 

and  then .     But  the  husband  is  pitied  and  can  easily  get  another 

victim  wife.  For  her  there  is  no  return.  Yet  God  will  pity !  God 
will  read  her  poor  heart ;  God  will  know  her  loneliness,  her  life  un- 
warmed  by  sympathy,  till  wedded  love  seeming  quite  a  fable,  drove  her 
into  sin. 

For  bread,  a  few  sell  themselves,  till  they  have  sunk  to  the  lowest 
depths;  then  the  grave  is  yawning  for  them  grim  and  horrible. 

For  love,  many  die;  some  with  a  rash  bold  hand  quickly  ending  life 
and  pain;  others,  slowly  dying  a  thousand  deaths,  pierced  as  with. dag 
ger  thrusts  by  constant  pain,  cool  looks,  unkind  words,  agonies jrf 
mind  not  translatable  by  words,  until  faith  in  man's  love  is  nearly  gone. 

It  is  the  betrayed,  the  poor  girl  who  loves  too  well,  and,  judging 
by  her  own  true  heart,  trusts  to  vows  that  are  only  from  the  lips.  Alas! 


50  SECRETS    TOLD. 

alas!  poor  child,  if  the  pitying  waters  do  not  claim  thee,  call  from  thy 
heart  for  God's  great  mercy,  the  streets  are  apt  to  be  thy  home,  where, 
wandering  like  a  restless  ghost,  sin  is  met  on  every  side,  and  Heaven 
seems  so  far  away;  you  fear  to  look  upon  the  stars,  lest  their  pure 
light  remind  you  of  your  days  of  innocence,  when  you  could  kiss 
your  mother  without  a  blush,  and  say  "Our  Father"  with  a  thankful 
heart. 

It  is  not  too  late,  dear  sisters;  God's  mercy  is  for  us  all;  remember 
the  joy  in  Heaven  over  the  one  that  repenteth;  remember,  to  suffer  is 
the  portion  allotted  to  us  all,  even  the  happiest  and  most  fortunate  of 
earth's  children;  then,  do  not  despair;  a  little  progress  every  day,  a 
little  softening  of  your  heart,  a  little  prayer  to  God  for  strength  and 
mercy,  and  life  will  look  more  beautiful  and  Heaven  so  near  that  you 
will  not  fear  to  knock  upon  the  pearly  gates,  when  the  last  day  comes, 
lest  an  angry  Father  drives  you  hence;  but  trusting  to  His  tender 
love,  seek  Him,  as  a  penitent  child,  sorrowing,  seeks  his  father's  arms. 

Dear  sisters,  let  this  beautiful,  beautiful  New  Year  be  a  harbinger  of 
hope  to  your  sad  hearts;  let  the  next  year  find  you  purer,  truer  in  your 
lives,  and  in  your  hearts  nearer  unto  God. 

Belle's  thoughts. 

Hop-O'-MY-THUMB. 


TOO  EARLY  MARRIAGE. 

Almost  the  first  use  of  the  mental  development  that  a  girl  has  attained 
at  school,  when  she  leaves  it  perfected  and  accomplished,  is  to  secure 
a  good  husband.  If  she  is  cold  and  heartless,  it  will  be  done  in  a 
mercantile  manner,  the  desirability  of  the  gentleman's  worldly  posi- 


SECRETS    TOLD.  51 

tion  being  alone  considered  ;  if  she  is  weak  and  sentimental,  nothing1 
is  considered,  her  ardent  fancy  changing  the  most  common-place  per 
son  into  a  hero.  The  mind  and  heart  of  no  girl  who  has  just  left 
school  is  sufficiently  matured  to -select  a  proper  companion  for  life's 
journey — the  union  that  will  secure  happiness  to  both.  Marriages  of 
convenience  are  at  the  best  but  shameless  bartering  of  bodies,  to  the 
eternal  detriment  of  souls.  Hasty,  romantic  unions  should  be  con 
sidered  with  great  caution,  for  the  permanent  happiness  of  one  is  only 
the  exception  to  the  general  rule  of  misery  to  the  many. 

When  a  girl  leaves  school  she  should  be  allowed  and  encouraged  to 
see  something  of  the  world  and  mankind.  She  should  be  taught 
that  every  man  who  can  turn  a  pretty  compliment  and  wears  good 
clothes  is  not  necessarily  the  one  being  of  all  the  world  created  to 
bring  her  happiness.  She  should  be  told  there  are  many  millions  of 
men  in  the  world,  and  that  the  first  offer  is  not  of  a  certainty  the  last, 
and  that  nothing  is  lost  by  a  reasonable  waiting.  The  father  or  mother 
who  shows  by  word  or  act  that  they  are  anxious  to  get  their  daughter 
or  their  daughters  off  their  hands  does  not  appreciate,  and  is-  not 
faithful  to  their  sacred  trust.  They  should  rather  be  earnest  in  their 
endeavors  to  keep  their  child  in  the  tender  circle  of  home  as  long  as 
possible,  or  at  least  till  a  suitor  come  whom  they  can  reasonably  ex 
pect  to  make  their  daughter  happy,  for  that  is  the  one  consideration  in 
marriage  above  wealth,  position,  intellect  or  beauty.  The  parents 
should  discuss  the  suitor  from  every  point,  sensibly,  and  even  rather 
leniently,  with  the  girl — not,  if  they  dislike  him,  showing  it  in  every 
word,  for  then  she  will  think  they  are  prejudiced  and  marry  him  out  of 
pique  and  pity — but  cooly,  critically  showing  the  chances  of  happiness 
and  misery  the  wife  of  such  a  man  would  have,  and  what  they  would 
be  in  such  a  union  as  she  ought  to  endeavor  to  make. 

The  practice  of  calling  a  girl  an  "old  maid"  almost  before  she  is 
out  of  her  teens,  is  both  silly  and  injurious,  causing  them  sometimes  to 


52  SECRETS   TOLD. 

accept  those  they  would  otherwise  peremptorily  decline,  only  for  fear 
of  those  enfants  terrible,  the  chipper  girls  of  sixteen,  twitting  them 
with  old  maidism.  They  should  be  taught — not  all  at  once,  but  from 
their  childhood  up — that  twenty-five  is  a  much  more  sensible  age  than 
the  teens  in  which  to  take  upon  themselves  the  duties  and  responsi 
bilities  of  married  life,  and  affords  a  far  better  chance  for  the  happi 
ness  of  all  concerned. 

How  often  does  the  young  wife  return  to  her  mother's  house,  some 
times  with  her  little  ones,  for  long  visits,  to  board  or  to  stay  till  death  ! 
She  has  left  the  home-nest  too  soon;  she  has  made  a  mistake  that  per 
haps  can  not  be  remedied  in  this  world.  And  the  husband  should  not 
be  ignored,  for  he  is  human,  the  same  as  the  wife,  and  suffers  also, 
though  perhaps  not  as  intensely.  A  girl  in  her  teens  is  not  physically 
able  properly  to  endure  the  care,  trials  and  dignity  of  motherhood. 
The  sleepless  nights,  the  anxious  watching  in  times  of  sickness,  the 
unusual  confinement  from  fresh  air  and  sunshine — these  tell  on  her 
undeveloped  constitution,  making  her  prematurely  old.  She  is  too 
young  to  exercise  discretion  in  the  humoring  or  not  humoring  the 
wishes  and  whims  of  her  husband;  too  young  to  understand  the  ben 
efit  of  curbing  her  own  temper  so  as  to  properly  train  her  husband 
and  children.  She  is  too  young  to  hold  the  reins  of  government, 
even  of  a  small  household,  with  a  firm  hand,  and  to  preside  over  it 
with  dignity.  Therefore,  let  her  wait  till  a  few  years  have  developed 
the  necessary  requisites  for  her  to  become  a  happy  wife,  and  then  the 
suitable  husband  is  easily  found. 

Mary  says  this. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  53 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


I  am  what  is  impolitely  termed  an  "Old  Bach."  and,  am  rather 
scarce  of  the  capillary  growth  necessary  for  an  ornament  for  our  kind 
red  brother's  wampum  belt — in  fact,  I  am  a  little  bald,  and  that  is  the 
reason,  I  suppose,  why  the  ladies  confide  in  me — making  me  a  re 
pository  for  their  hearts'  little  secrets. 

It  was  only  a  few  weeks  since  one  young  thing  came  to  me  and  said  : 

"Oh,  Uncle  John,  my  heart  is  broken,"  and  she  grasped  my 
hands  so  tightly  that  I  could  not  even  stroke  her  shining  hair. 

"What  is  the  matter,  little  one?"  I  asked. 

"  My  husband,  my  husband — "  here  she  broke  down  and  began  to 
cry. 

"  The  brute! — he  has  not  dared  to  strike   you?" 

"  Worse  than  that — a  thousand  times  worse!" 

Now  I  felt  my  blood  rise.  Here  was  a  young  thing,  not  eighteen, 
pretty  and  not  married  one  short  year,  and  was  already  crying  about 
her  husband's  ill-treatment.  I  bared  my  arms,  and  felt  as  if  the  strength 
of  Hercules  was  coming  back  into  the  diminished  muscles,  and  that 
I  could  fight  that  man.  Then  I  thought  it  was  well  to  be  prudent  in 
everything,  so  I  said: 

"But  tell  me,  little  girl,  what  has  he  done  ?" 

' '  Why — why,  last  night  he — he  went  to  see  the  Living  Pictures,  and 
liked  them !"  and  with  a  burst  of  grief  she  threw  herself  into  my  arms. 
How  could  I  console  such  grief  as  this  ?  I  tried  all  sorts  of  common 
places,  but  it  would  not  answer. 

"You  know  I  thought  -my  husband  never  looked  at  another  woman, 


54  SECRETS    TOLD. 

and — and  I  was  so  proud,  and  bragged  to  my  lady  friends,  and  smiled 

in  pity  when  I  heard  that  Mr. had  kissed  the  hired  girl;  but  she 

did  have  clothes  on— at  least,  I  suppose  so;  but  these  Living  Pictures 
haven't  got  a  thing  on  them,  but  tights  and  a  bit  of  gauze.  So  he  told 
me  with  his  own  lips.  Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!''  and  the  poor  child 
rocked  herself  and  moaned,  till  my  eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  and  I 
thought  what  a  fool  a  man  was,  with  a  pretty,  interesting  wife,  who 
looked  up  to  him  as  the  ideal  man  of  all  the  world,  to  kill  her  faith  in 
him,  to  render  her  suspicious  on  every  occasion  of  his  being  at  the 
"  Lodge,"  for  fear  he  wasn't — all  for  the  sake  of  seeing  a  few  brazen 
women  in  tights! 

"If  he  had  said  he  wanted  to  see  some  living  pictures,  I  would 
have  been  a  living  picture  myself,  and  the  seventy-five  cents  would 
have  bought  me  a  new  necktie.  But  I  see  what  it  is:  he  is  tired  of 
me,  and  wants  to  see  other  women.  Oh!  I  wish  I  had  never  married! 
Could  I  get  a  divorce  for  this?" 

I  told  her  I  hardly  thought  she  could,  although  it  was  provocation 
enough.  Then,  after  petting  her  to  quiet  her,  she  arose  to  go. 

"  But  I'll  be  revenged.  I'll  go  and  flirt  with  my  old  beau,  Harry;  I 
wish  I  had  married  him!"  And  she  left  me  to  ponder  on  the  dis 
appointments  of  this  life.  What  age  is  free  from  them?  From  our 
earliest  infancy,  when  we  fondly  imagine  the  half-pint  bottle  is  inex 
haustible,  and  wake  to  find  we  are  only  imbibing  air,  the  bitter  expe 
rience  begins;  it  continues  as  later  on  we  strive  to  grasp  the  pretty 
flaming  candle,  and,  alas,  get  only  burnt  fingers  for  our  pains. 

How  I  could  moralize  on  this!  For  do  not  we  men — myself  ex 
cluded — go  after  just  such  dangerous,  delusive  pleasures  and  with  the 
same  results  ?  But  I  am  the  ladies'  confidante.  My  own  sex  I  ignore 
for  they  have  long  ago  disgusted  me.  Oh !  I  could  a  tale  unfold,  as 
the  ghost  says,  so  full  of  horror,  deceit,  dreadful  wickedness,  that  my 
dear  female  friends  would  remain  in  single-blessedness  forever  sooner 


SECRETS   TOLD.  55 

than  trust  their  happiness  in  the  keeping  of  that  vile  creature  we  call 
a  man.  Perhaps  you  think  that  disappointment  and  the  world's  rough 
usage  has  made  me  a  morbid  ascetic,  seeing  things  through  green 
spectacles;  but  I  scorn  the  imputation.  My  information  is  gleaned 
from  my  dear  confidantes,  who  think  me  harmless  as  a  wooden  image, 
because  my  hair  is  scant  and  my  teeth  are  out. 

It  was  not  long  ago,  one  of  the  dear  creatures  met  me  on  the  street, 
and  shaking  my  two  hands  warmly,  said: 

"Oh,  Uncle  John,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  yon.  I  want  your  advice. 
Have  you  been  to  lunch?" 

On  my  reply  in  the  negative,  she  cried: 

"Then  come  along  with  me,  for  I  am  dreadfully  hungry!"  and  she 
conducted  me  into  a  cosy  little  retreat,  where  lace  curtains  shut  us  out 
from  the  vulgar  gaze  of  still  hungrier  mortals.  She  ordered  a  broiled 
beefsteak,  with  a  coal  on  it,  an  omelette,  some  potatoes  (in  a  delicious 
style,  to  me  unknown,)  and  coffee.  I  said  I  would  take  the  same,  re 
lying  on  her  exquisite  taste.  And  as  we  ate  she  talked. 

"Oh!  Uncle  John,  I'm  so  disappointed  in  my  husband." 

Ah!  this  was  coming  to  the  point,  in  a  quick,  business-like  way. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  so?"  I  replied,  surprised  and  sympathizing. 

"Yes.  Pve  been  married — let  me  see;  it  seems  like  six  years,  but 
it's  only  six  months  Well,  George  said  he  didn't  drink,  chew  nor 
swear.  Of  course,  I  didn't  mind  him  smoking  those  exquisite  little 
cigars  he  likes.  Would  you  believe  it  ? — two  months  ago  he  came 
home  late  at  night — it  was  11  o'clock — and — I  do  believe  he  was 
tight!  He  said  he  wasn't;  that  he  didn't  feel  well,  and  had  takena  little 
ginger.  But  it  didn't  perfume  like  ginger  one  bit,  and  I  nearly  cried 
my  eyes  out.  I  told  him  I'd  go  back  to  ma's,  and  he  only  laughed. 
Then,  I  soon  discovered  he  chewed  horrid  tobacco,  like  the  big,  ugly 
men — and  he  so  handsome!  Then,  yesterday,  because  he  found  a 


56  SECRETS    TOLD. 

paltry  button  oft"  his  shirt,  he  said,  'Damn  it!'  and  threw  the  shirt  on 
the  floor." 

She  looked  as  if  she  would  cry,  but  she  did  not  stop  eating.  I  was 
glad  of  it,  for  she  needed  all  the  strength  to  be  got  from  nutritious  food 
to  bear  up  under  such  brutality. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  I  began,  "you  should  not  have  married  a  man 
with  the  idea  he  was  an  angel!  Did  none  of  your  experienced  lady 
friends  inform  you  that  men  were  not  altogether  to  be  relied  on,  and 
that  their  habits  were  not  quite  as  refined  as  a  young  girl's?" 

"  But,  Uncle  John,  George  was  so  sweet;  why  half  the  girls  I  knew 
were  in  love  with  him.  He  had  the  dearest  little  moustache — and  to 
think  that  it  should  be  stained  with  that  horrid— but  that  isn't  all;  he 
he  has  joined  the  Lodge,  and  the  Sons  of  something,  and  always  has 
so  much  business  with  them  that  I  hardly  have  his  company  one  even 
ing  a  week.  When  I  was  single  he  wanted  to  come  twice  a  day,  but 
ma  wouldn't  let  him.  Why  I  should  be  so  much  less  attractive  be 
cause  I  happen  to  marry  him,  I  can't  see,  for  if  I  had  taken  Ned — 
I  almost  wished  I  had — he  said  he  would  blow  his  brains  out,  and  that 
he  would  never  cease  to  love  me.  According  to  this,  it  is  better  to  marry 
a  man  you  don't  care  for,  so  that  the  one  you  do  love  shall  always  care 
for  you. " 

"Why,  you  are  quite  a  little  philosopher!  Yes,  I  have  heard  that 
men  care  sometimes  more  for  some  one  else's  wife  than  they  do  for 
their  own.  But  in  your  case,  I  shouldn't  think  that  possible.  In 
dulge  him  a  little;  don't  let  him  see  tears.  Men  like  them  well  enough 
in  a  lady-love,  but  in  a  wife — well,  they  drive  the  husband  out  of  doors, 
and  then  you  don't  know  what  he  does.  Be  cheerful;  give  him  a  cus- 
paclor  in  each  room;  and  if  he  will  drink  Boca,  get  a  pitcher  of  it  for 
dinner  and  drink  it  with  him.  Ask  him  if  you  can  join  the  Lady 
Grangers,  or  the  Sorosis,  or  something  exclusively  feminine;  tell  him 
if  he  can't  take  you,  Ned  will  be  only  too  happy  to  do  so.  Work  a 


SECRETS    TOLD.  57 

little  on  his  jealousy;  not  too  much;  just  keep  up  his  interest  in  you. 
Let  him  see  you  are  not  unattractive  to  all  others,  and  always  look 
pretty,  and  good  tempered,  and  I  think  he  won't  be  such  a  fool  as  to 
neglect  the  good  he  has  for  unknown  and  dangerous  attraction. " 

The  young  puss  smiled. 

"  I  did  think  of  seeing  about  a  divorce,  but  I  guess  I'll  try  George 
a  few  months  more.  Oh,  Uncle  John,  if  the  men  were  all  like  you ! 
But  you  are  an  angel!" 

And  this  poor  child  is  only  one  of  millions  like  her. 

HOP-O'  MY-THUMB. 

This  is  George's  wife's  secret. 


WOMAN-PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

I  stand  up  in  defence  of  my  sex.  I  stand  up  to  hurl  the  gauntlet 
of  defiance  into  the  face  of  that  old  octogenarian,  the  London  Satur 
day  Review. 

I  stand  up  to  defy  the  writers,  young  and  old,  rich  and  poor,  male 
or  female,  who  wilfully  and  with  malice-aforethought,  villify  the  Pres 
ent  Woman. 

Even  my  friend,  the  magnificent  Alia — stop,  let  me  think;  no,  it 
was  the  not  so  magnificent  Saturday's  Post — gave  a  column  and  a  half 
of  back-handed  slaps,  at  our  devoted  sex. 

All  these  writers  whine  regretfully  over  what  the  sex  was,  deprecate 
what  it  is,  and  look  with  fearful  foreboding  to  what  it  will  be. 

The  blushing,  drooping  modesty  of  a  century  ago  was  well  enough 
for  feudal  days  and  feudal  castles,  when  the  faintest  shriek  from  fair 
lips  would  summon  a  dozen  knights  errant  and  cavaliers  to  the  dis- 


58  SECRETS   TOLD. 

tressed  one's  side;  when  a  woman  was  only  expected  to  look  pretty 
and  work  embroidery;  when  mead  ran  in  the  cellar,  and  whole  car 
casses  of  beef  hung  in  the  pantry;  when  nothing  more  serious  than 
the  Troubadour's  latest  song  occupied  the  fair  one's  mind;  then,  in 
deed,  the  blushing,  drooping  modesty  that  the  octogenarian,  the  Post, 
and  the  little  fish  bewail,  was  the  fitting  and  expected  characteristic 
of  the  sex  that  then  dared  hardly  raise  their  eyes  to  the  faces  of  their 
lords. 

But  in  this  rushing,  bustling  world,  a  woman  is  considered  as  good 
as  another  man,  to  fight  the  battle  of  life,  but  not  to  have  quite  as 
good  a  right. 

Why,  I've  seen  a  little  woman  just  out  of  a  sick  bed,  and  not  tall 
enough  to  reach  the  strap,  stand  during  a  long  ride  in  a  street  car; 
she  had  as  much  right  to  stand  as  a  healthy  man,  and  she  did.  Her 
blushing,  or  rather  pale  modesty  didn't  help  her  much.  I've  seen 
these  delicate  creatures — whom  the  writers  of  the  day  deplore  as  hav 
ing  lost  the  blushing  aforesaid — nearly  pushed  into  the  gutter,  to  make 
way  for  a  strong  man;  they  had  just  as  good  a  right  to  get  their 
dainty  feet  muddy  as  he;  in  fact  I've  felt  the  hard  elbows  in  my  own 
side,  and  never  even  pushed  back  in  retaliation,  but  I've  ground  my 
teeth,  and  thought  naughty  things. 

I'ts  all  very  pretty  to  read  about  this  drooping  modesty,  and  occa 
sionally  would  light  up  well  as  a  picture,  with  damask  and  lace  cur 
tains  as  a  background,  and  a  hanging  lamp  and  handsome  young  man 
as  auxiliaries,  but  for  practical  use  in  this  work-a-day  world,  we  want 
just  such  women  as  we  have  got — hard-headed  and  hard-handed,  too, 
sometimes,  with  a  dogged  determination  to  hold  their  own,  even 
against  a  thousand  male  competitors. 

I  will  tell  you  some  facts  to  support  my  arguments.  In  Philadelphia 
in  the  year  187-,  there  were  two  lady  engravers,  and  but  two  who 
made  it  a  profession,  so  I  was  told,  in  the  whole  city.  One  of  them 


SECRETS    TOLD.  59 

I  knew;  she  worked  for  years,  illustrating  Godey's  Lady's  Book,  and 
her  work  was  as  good  as  that  in  any  cotemporary  magazine;  but  the 
male  engravers — I  will  not  call  them  men — -determined  that  those 
two  women  should  not  be  competitors  even  if  they  had  to  do  the 
work  for  that  magazine  for  nothing;  so  they  underbid  and  underbid 
them,  till  at  last  they  got  their  wish,  and  years  of  faithful  service  was 
forgotten  in  that  goodly  city,  because  the  stronger  sex  wanted  no 
women  rivals,  so  would  work  cheaper — at  least  till  they  got  rid  of  them. 

Then  again,  one  of  these  ladies  was  for  years  the  teacher  of  en 
graving  in  a  School  of  Design.  A  man  came  and  offered  to  teach  for 
nothing;  magnanimous  creature!  and  the  female — shaming  her  sex — 
who  conducted  the  establishment,  accepted  the  offer.  How  long  he 
taught  for  nothing  after  this  gallant  action  is  not  hard  to  surmise. 

Will  the  London  Saturday  Review,  and  the  thousand  and  one  other 
howlers,  please  tell  us  what  retiring,  modest  simplicity  would  have 
accomplished  in  these  cases?  Perhaps  a  deluge  of  tears,  or  a  few 
fainting  fits  would  have  softened  these  male  creatures'  hearts,  and  the 
weak  sisters  would  have  been  permitted  to  earn  their  own  living  in 
peace  ;  but  we  doubt  it.  And  such  are  the  people  and  circumstances 
women  have  daily  to  encounter  in  this  weary  struggle  for  existence  Is 
it  not  enough  to  rub  the  blush  and  bloom  off  beauty's  cheek,  to  harden 
the  native  delicacy  of  her  feelings,  to  make  her  try  to  educate  herself 
as  man  to  meet  man  ? 

This  is  all  very  well,  you  may  think,  for  the  working  class;  but  this 
is  a  great  class.  Watch  the  streets  of  a  large  city  at  6  P.  M.,  near  the 
manufactories,  and  you  will  be  surprised  to  see  the  crowds  of  girls 
and  women,  with  their  little  baskets  and  bundles ;  then  there  are  thou 
sands  who  do  not  go  in  crowds,  from  the  photograph  galleries,  the 
counters,  the  school  rooms,  the  theatres,  the  printing  offices,  the  opera 
singers,  the  servant  girls,  and  our  poor,  poor,  despised  saloon  waiters 
and  singers. 


60  SECRETS    TOLD. 

One-half  of  this  vast  army  has  been  as  delicately  brought  up  as  the 
blushing-modesty  people  could  wish,  but  they  soon  find  that  actual  life 
is  somewhat  different  from  romance,  and  that  the  Don  Quixotes  are, 
alas!  all  dead  ;  that  the  prizes  are  for  those  that  can  battle  the  hardest, 
and  not  for  the  retiring,  easily  vanquished  woman.  Is  it  a  wonder, 
then,  that  their  air  is  a  little  more  defiant  than  may  be  desirable,  or 
their  voice  a  shade  louder,  or  their  lives  more  independent  ? 

I  despise  the  girl  or  woman  who  is  always  looking  out  for  an  insult, 
and  can  make  a  double  entendre  of  every  little  joke  that's  uttered.  I've 
seen  such  ;  these  are  the  horse- whipping,  cow-hiding  kind.  I've  seen 
that,  too,  in  one  of  the  largest  eastern  theatres,  where  the  women 
screamed,  "  Don't  let  him  hit  her,"  when  the  "  he"  apparently  had  no 
intention  of  doing  anything  but  holding  the  infuriated  woman's  arms. 
I  thought  her  blushing-modesty  deserved  a  right  smart  beating  in  re 
turn. 

I've  heard  of  the  blushing  kind  replying  to  the  remarks  of  strangers 
and  then  when  one  shows  pretty  plainly  what  he  thinks  she  is,  she  is 
indignant  and  calls  on  her  big  brother,  or  avenges  her  own  honor  in 
some  public  place.  Had  she  walked  on,  with  her  eyes  before  her, 
attending  to  her  own  affairs,  in  a  sensible,  business-like  way,  not  trying 
the  game  of  drooping  eyelids  and  faltering  footsteps,  to  be  admired  as 
so  unsophisticated  !  she  could  go  through  the  world  without  one  insult, 
or  many  occasions  to  do  blushing  either. 

We  want  to  know  where  the  women  of  to-day  have  so  deteriorated 
that  all  these  cries  should  be  raised  against  them;  can't  they  do  as 
much  as  they  ever  did  ?  Aye,  a  thousand  times  more !  Look  how  many 
women  support  their  families,  or  help  their  husbands  to  do  so,  or  pro 
vide  for  a  mother,  or  dependent  little  sisters  and  brothers !  in  so  many 
different  branches  of  industry,  too,  that  a  few  years  ago  were  sealed 
books  to  women. 

Letters  from  the  great  Exposition  tells  of  some   good    inventions 


SECRETS    TOLD.  61 

emanating  from  female  brains.  One,  a  fire-proof  building  material, 
which  if  it  be  all  that  is  claimed,  will  prove  a  valuable  epoch  in  the 
world's  history.  In  our  own  little  fair  here,  women  made  their  pre 
sence  known  with  their  sweet  tar  drops,  and  their  hair  restorer;  and 
who  will  deny  the  palm  to  a  woman  for  the  boon  of  all  boons — -at 
least  most  married  men  think  so — Mrs.  Winslow's  Soothing  Syrup  ? 
How  many  a  night  would  the  masculine  rest  be  broken,  the  peaceful 
dreams  annihilated,  the  morning  nap  disturbed,  had  not  kind  Provi 
dence  permitted  the  woman  Winslow  to  be  born  and  bred. 

Education,  too,  is  more  universal  than  it  ever  was  before;  and  as 
for  the  modesty  in  dress,  no  one  who  looks  at  a  lady's  magazine  of 
fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  will  pretend  that  our  dear  ancestors  set  us  an 
example  that  could  be  followed  without  the  greatest  scandal  in  these — 
according  to  their  cry — degraded  days.  A  petticoat  or  gown  of  the 
scantiest  pattern,  showing  foot,  ankle,  shape  and  bosom;  a  net  work 
of  pearls  or  gold  braid  covering  the  whole,  until  the  extravagance  was 
prohibited  by  a  decree  from  the  throne.  I've  seen  the  book — tiny 
slippers,  long  white  gloves,  a  few  short  fleecy  curls,  and  a  lady  was  in 
full  dress  for  court  or  ball. 

And  they  cry,  too,  so  much  about  a  woman's  make  up;  this  is  of 
nonsense  the  very  sheerest.  In  the  car  the  other  day,  of  all  the 
women  there,  some  eight  or  more,  I  could  almost  take  my — I  was 
going  to  swear!  oh,  my! — that  not  one  was  the  least  made  up  by  pad 
or  bustle,  hair  or  jute,  paint  or  powder,  except  the  little  that  perhaps 
remained  on  my  face,  and  that  the  great  majority  of  women  are  like 
wise  as  nature  made  them. 

Those  that  are  made  up,  what  does  it  amount  to  ?  A  little  cotton 
where  nature  has  been  illiberal,  a  newspaper  to  give  the  dress  a  proper 
set,  and  a  little  powder  to  soften  the  effect  of  tan  or  freckles.  There 
are  a  few  exceptions  to  the  rule,  of  course,  but  not  enough  to  warrant 
the  conclusion  that  we  are  all  going  headlong  to  the — . 


62  SECRETS    TOLD. 

These  very  croakers  would  smile  sweeter,  and  raise  their  hats  higher 
to  a  pretty  woman,  even  if  they  knew  that  art  helped  to  make  her  a 
joy  forever,  than  they  would  to  a  rusty,  dusty  simplicity,  with  a  drooping 
head  and  a  giggle. 

I  can  imagine  drooping,  blushing  modesty  changed  into  a  wife  of 
to-day;  after  the  first  three  weeks  her  husband  would  tell  her  she  was 
a  fool  to  be  so  sensitive,  and  not  to  blush  whenever  a  person  looked 
at  her,  as  if  she  was  ashamed  of  herself;  and  ten  to  one  she  would  have 
to  gird  up  her  loins  for  a  good  day's  washing  before  many  months 
were  over,  if  she  hadn't  the  spirit  to  say  "I  shan't!"  and  stick  to  it. 

I  don't  depreciate  modesty,  mind  me,  but  maintain  that  the  women 
of  the  present  day  are  as  modest  as  is  necessary  to  good  sense — in  fact 
as  modest  as  they  ever  were. 

Helen's  opinion. 


A  PLEA  FOR  LAZINESS. 

Laziness,  all  hail!  thou  fat,  innocent  goddess,  to  whom  people 
give  no  credit  of  good  performed  of  any  kind;  let  me  defend  thee, 
not  as  an  advocate,  only  to  show  thy  uses  and  abuses  in  a  clear,  dis 
passionate  way. 

Let  us  begin  at  the  beginning. 

The  baby  in  its  innocent  infancy  is  by  no  manner  of  means  a  lazy 
atom  of  humanity;  yet  what  does  it  accomplish?  If  its  perpetual 
force  of  lung  and  limb  could  be  put  to  some  purpose,  the  motive 
power  of  many  a  mill  and  factory  could  be  had  without  steam — a 
thought — could  it  not  be  utilized  to  grind  the  matutinal  coffee,  or  to 
turn  a  handle,  and  polish  the  paternal  boot?  But  I  digress. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  63 

Who  does  not  shrink  from  the  stinging  remark:  "  This  is  a  lazy 
thing!"  Yet  who  is  it  that  becomes  fat  and  fair  at  forty?  Why,  the 
lazy  female,  to  be  sure,  who  sits  at  the  window  with  folded  hands,  and 
watches  the  moving  crowds  in  the  streets,  who  goes  to  bed  early  and 
has  a  good,  long,  morning  nap. 

People  often  call  it  a  clear  conscience  when  one  can  nap,  morning, 
noon  and  night,  but  the  real  name  is  laziness,  pleasent  to  the  practicer, 
but  sometimes  very  selfish,  and  inconvenient  to  others. 

It's  nice  to  have  a  clear  conscience,  and  sleep  so  sound  that  the 
baby's  screams  don't  wake  you,  nor  the  nudges  of  your  wife  disturb  you; 
it's  nicer  to  be  so  innocent  that  you,  in  your  dreams,  are  soaring  with 
the  angels,  while  your  better  half,  in  night  robe  and  bare  feet,  is  walk 
ing  the  floor  with  your  son  and  heir  or  warming  his  "pap"  over  the 
gaslight. 

It's  nice  to  be  able  to  call  selfishness  and  laziness  by  pretty,  meri 
torious  names,  thus  satisfying  one's  conscience. 

It's  nice  to  have  such  an  innocent,  child-like  disposition  that  you 
can  sleep  all  Sunday  afternoon,  when  your  wife  would  so  enjoy  a  walk 
with  you.  It  saves  you  the  annoyance  of  her  silly  prattle  and  the 
absurdity  of  being  seen  with  a  baby  in  your  arms.  It's  nice  to  go  to 
bed  at  eight  o'clock  so  as  not  to  be  bored  visiting  your  wife's  relations, 
or  spending  your  money  for  two  at  shows  when  it  is  so  much  nicer  to 
play  "  Pedro  nine  "  at  the  corner  for  cigars  or — don't  mention  it — 
drinks;  and  as  you  cannot  sleep  forever,  its  pleasant  and  independent, 
and  not  lazy,  to  get  up  at  4  A.  M.  and  wander  in  and  out,  slamming 
the  doors  when  others  want  to  sleep;  but  you're  not  a  lazy  slug-a-bed, 
and  they  ought  not  to  be  either. 

But  to  our  lean,  long,  restless  sisters,  we  would  recommend  a  little 
of  this  clear  conscience,  sometimes  called  "  laziness."  They  work  too 
much;  take  the  average  farmer's  wife  lor  example,  brown,  careworn 
and  angular,  looking  years  older — though  she  is  not — than  her  fat  rosy 
husband;  watch  her  day's  occupations:  a  candle-light  breakfast  in 
Winter,  to  prepare  which,  Heaven  knows  at  what  hour  she  got  up; 


64 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


milking,  dish-washing,  house-cleaning,  churning,  washing,  ironing, 
mending,  bread-baking,  cooking;  in  Summer,  canning,  preserving  and 
pickling  added,  varied  a  little  by  spinning  yarn  or  making  her  hus 
band's  jeans;  in  addition  to  these  amusements,  a  half  dozen  to  a  dozen 
shock-headed  likenesses  of  their  father  to  attend  to.  No  time  to 
cultivate  the  intellect,  or  taste,  or  even  a  flower  garden;  a  weekly  or 
monthly  paper  to  snatch  a  glimpse  of  on  Sunday,  when  their  lord  is 
sleeping;  a  pinch  of  the  chin,  or  a  kiss,  an  unknown  and  almost  for 
gotten  recompense  for  a  harder,  more  wearying  day's  work  than  a  man 
can  ever  know.  These  are  the  women  who  work  themselves  into 
early  graves,  and  for  whom  their  husbands  mourn  for  just  one  month 
and  a  half,  and  at  the  end  of  the  second  month,  clean  shaven  and  shod, 
and  dressed  in  a  suit  of  new  store-clothes,  begin  to  go  to  meetin' 
regularly  and  watch  the  girls  and  widows,  seein'  one  home  when  the 
least  chance  is  offered. 

It  is  not  only  our  country  sisters  who  need  the  prescription  "a  little 
laziness,  taken    after   meals,"    but   many   of  the  bustling  wives  of  the 

city,  who  do  all  their  own 
work,  and  their  husbands 
smoke  two-bit  cigars. 

Oh,  take  advice  from 
one  who  knows.  Don't 
work  yourselves  to  death. 
No  one  will  care  one  jot 
the  more  for  you;  your 
husband  won't  love  you 
any  better;  in  fact,  I  think 
a  little  contrary  -  wise; 
your  hard  hands,  and 
your  wrinkled  brows  will 
only  make  him  say,  or 
think,  you  are  growing 
old  and  ugly — then — 


This  is  the  Work. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  65 

Laziness  all  hail ! 

And  perhaps  you  think  no  great  inventions  have  emanated  from  the 
brains  of  lazy  people,  or  rather  from  their  exigencies.  I  have  been 
told  by  various  people,  but  do  not  affirm  of  my  own  knowledge,  for  I 
mightn't  even  have  been  born  at  the  time,  for  aught  I  know,  of  two 
valuable  additions  to  the  inventions  of  science,  caused  by  laziness,  or 
rather,  laziness  being  the  motive-power — one,  the  steam  gauge. 

A  boy,  being  left  to  watch  the  engine,  had  to  get  up  at  certain 
intervals  and  let  off  the  steam,  and  he  was  one  of  the  kind  who  didn't 
like  to  get  up  at  certain  or  uncertain  intervals,  so  he  made  a  contri 
vance  of  string  and  wire,  and  old  iron,  to  let  the  steam  off  for  him, 
while  he  remained  on  his  stool  to  read  or  doze,  and  this  was  the  basis 
of  the  valuable  steam  gauge. 

The  next,  the  fireproof  material  for  safes.  An  Italian  plaster  image- 
maker  used  to  wash  his  hands  in  cold  weather  in  a  basin  of  water  that 
constantly  stood  on  the  stove.  He  was  not  one- of  those  who  liked 
clean  water  so  well  that  he  would  take  the  trouble  to  change  it  each 
time  he  washed  the  plaster  from  his  hands;  so  there  it  staid  till  it 
would  no  longer  become  hot,  even  with  a  good  fire  beneath  it.  And 
this  is  how  the  non-conducting  of  heat  quality  was  discovered,  both  of 
plaster  of  Paris  and  certain  cements,  an  invention  ensuing  which,  we 
all  know,  has  saved  much  valuable  property. 

Then  the  old  chap  who  so  lazily  watched  the  kettle,  and  thus  dis 
covered  the  power  of  steam.  See  how  his  laziness  has  revolutionized 
the  world! 

Franklin,  too,  flying  his  little  kite  (for  indulging  in  which  sport 
many  a  boy  has  got  a  licking  for  laziness).  See  what  he  discovered — 
touching  off  the  electricity  of  the  clouds. 

And  Newton,  too.  His  lazy  lounging  under  a  tree,  watching  the  ap 
ples  fall,  discovered  to  us  the  reason  why  we  don't  fly  off  this  globe 
on  a  tangent  when  we  are  upside  down,  as  it  were. 


66  SECRETS   TOLD. 

Has  Laziness  nothing  to  boast  of  in  these  illustrious  examples,  I 
should  like  to  know  ? 

If  the  truth  was  known,  no  doubt  but  many,  very  many,  of  our  la 
bor-saving  inventions  could  be  traced  to  the  quality  inherent  in  many 
people,  of  trying  to  condense  their  work,  or  to  perform  it  with  as  little 
trouble  and  expense  of  strength  as  possible. 

Look  at  the  dumb-waiter;  who  would  have  thought  of  that  but  the 
person  who  did  not  like  to  give  their  calves  too  much  exercise;  the 
elevator,  ditto;  the  rolling  chair  at  the  great  centennial,  ditto,  ditto. 

And  the  washing  fluids,  and  the  labor-saving  soaps,  that  you  are 
only  to  cut  up  and  put  in  the  water  with  the  clothes,  look  at  them 
hard,  turn  them  over  once,  and  they're  done.  Could  any  but  a  lazy 
person  have  thought  of  a  way  to  get  a  boiled  shirt  so  easily  ? 

Look  at  the  reapers  and  mowers,  the  threshers  and  crushers  of  the 
present  day — do  the  horses  eat  more  hay  because  it  is  cut  easier?  Do 
the  cows  consume  more  fodder,  or  the  tippler  more  corn  juice,  or  the 
farmer  live  longer,  because  of  these  inventions?  No.  But  Laziness 
said  :  "  If  we  have  them  we'll  have  more  time  for  play  ;"  and  where 
there  is  a  demand,  there  always  is  a  supply.  So  all  hail  to  Laziness ! 
for  it  gives  the  farmer  more  time  to  read  and  cultivate  his  intellect  and 
become  a  Granger  ;  and  though  they  don't  take  but  little  work  from 
the  woman,  save  in  the  fearful  large  dinners  they  used  to  have  to  get 
up  for  the  harvesters,  yet  she,  too,  becomes  inoculated  with  progress, 
and,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  her  husband,  becomes  a  Grangeress. 

Now,  mind  me,  I  like  a  clean  house,  although  I  don't  like  to  make 
it  so  myself ;  and  I  don't  like  my  servant  to  neglecc  to  dust  the  mantles 
and  furniture,  and  keep  a  good  look  out  for  the  damage  the  flies  do. 
I  don't  like  slippery  dishes,  either,  and  murky  glasses,  or  sooty  tins, 
or  greasy  floors;  yet,  when  dire  necessity  compels  my  ninety-two 
pounds  avoirdu poise  to  not  only  superintend  and  manage,  but  also  to 
practice,  I  am  dainty  with  my  fingers,  not  wishing  to  burn  them  ;  I 


SECRETS   TOLD.  67 

can't  or  do  not  like  to  stoop,  so  the  floors  get  scrubbed .  Then 

I  am  conveniently  near-sighted,  and  when  my  beloved  blanks  the  cob 
webs,  I  say  : 

"  Where  dear  ?     I  can't  see  them." 

And  you  know  it  would  be  a  cruel  man  that  could  blame  his  wife's 
infirmity  of  sight,  so  he  takes  the  broom  and  brushes  them  down, 
swallowing  his  wrath  with  a  grunt  ! 

"  Umph  I" 

This  is  what  Emily  thinks. 


SMALL  FEET. 


Why  is  it  that  gentlemen  so  admire  small  feet  ?  If  a  little  fort  is 
good,  a  large  one  ought  to  be  better.  That  stands  to  reason;  but  I  am 
not  so  young  as  I  was,  and  perhaps  look  at  these  things  in  a  more 
philosophical  light.  We  pretend  to  admire  striped  stockings;  then,  of 
course,  the  more  stripes  visible  the  greater  our  admiration;  ergo,  the 
larger  the  foot,  the  more  stripes. 

The  weaker  sex  dress  to  please  us  lords  of  creation,  so  'tis  said,  re 
iterated,  and  said  again;  so  then  to  us  belongs  the  blame  of  inciting 
a  damsel  with  a  No.  5  foot  to  wear  a  No.  2£  shoe.  Think  of  the 
pains  and  aches  we  are  responsible  for;  think  of  the  corns  and  bun 
ions  our  opinions  have  planted!  Observe  the  hesitating,  uneven 
steps!  we  know  the  poor  thing  is  in  misery,  and  all  for  what?  To 
show  a  smaller  shoe  than  she  can  comfortably  wear,  because  we  ad 
mire  them.  But  as  we  do  not  feel  the  pain,  I  suppose  we  should  not 
complain,  especially  those  of  us  who  dote  on  small  feet,  and  do  a  lit 
tle  suffering  in  that  way  ourselves. 

Why,  I  know  a  young  man  who  has  as  small  a  foot  as  a  lady;  but 
mind  me,  I  don't  say  he  suffers  for  it;  perhaps  it  is  a  natural  gift,  not 
an  acquired  one.  I  know  another  who  can  wear  his  wife's  shoes,  and 


68 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


it  don't  make  him  proud  one  bit;  oh,  no!  we  stern  sex  are  never 
proud,  not  even  over  our  physical  beauties,  over  which  the  ladies  go 
in  raptures.  Why  I've  heard  them  myself,  exclaim:  "  Oh!  what  an 
exquisite  little  foot  he  has!"  And  if  the  possessor  thereof  had  heard 
himself,  do  you  suppose  a  blush  of  pleasurable  vanity  would  have  suf 
fused  his  cheek  ?  Oh,  no!  when  a  man  has  a  small  foot  he  knows  it 
well,  if  not  by  the  aches  aud  pains  of  tight  boots,  then  by  the  oft-re 
peated  remarks  and  admiring  glances  of  the  fair  sex. 

Observing  human  nature  as  I  do,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  if 
the  sexes  could  change  places,  what  attentive,  devoted  lovers  the 
weaker  sex  would  be  ! 

Apropos  of  small  feet,  I  was  riding  in  a  street  car  the  other  day — 
not  one  of  those  popular  ones,  the  seats  of  which  are  so  old  and  wret 
ched  that  ladies  have  to  cover  them  with  newspapers  to  keep  from 
soiling  their  dresses,  but  one  of  those  nice,  clean  wooden-seated  ones 
— when  a  lovely  damsel  of  sweet  sixteen  entered.  Her  dress  was  of  the 
most  approved  style,  flounced  and  puffed  and  pulled  back.  Balancing 
herself  on  the  edge  of  the  seat,  she  pulled  on  her  gloves ;  they  fitted 
like  her  own  fair  skin;  then  she  deliberately,  and  without 
giving  previous  notice,  so  that  modest 
men  could  leave  the  car,  she  deliber 
ate  \y  raised  her  dress  and  pulled  from  her  gar 
ter  a  large  hair-pin,  buttoned  the  aforesaid 
gloves,  replaced  the  popular  buttonhook, 
smoothed  down  her  dress,  and  sat  smiling  !  * 


This  is  the  leg. 


We  gentlemen  stood  aghast.     Mr.  I- 
young  man  of  my  acquaintance  studying  for 
the   ministry    had   fainted,     in    the    corner. 

Mr.  V ,  a  stockbroker,    had   frantically 

grasped  the  bell-strap  and  without  waiting  for 
the  car  to  stop,  nearly  landed  in  the  cold  wa 
ters  of  the  Fountain.  I  covered  my  face  with 
my  handkerchief  and  wept,  almost ;  yet  she 
sat  smiling,  cool  and  possessed. 


''This  really  occurred,  a  ew  days  ago,  in  a  street  car  in  the  city  of  San  Francisco 


SECRETS    TOLD.  69 

That  young  female  could  rule  a  kingdom  ;  could  order  a  man's  head 
cut  off  without  any  emotion ;  could  command  armies,  burn  the  Sioux 
in  their  own  fires,  and  wear  the  scalp  of  Sitting  Bull  ! 

Oh,  but  her  foot  ! — my  handkerchief  was  thin — her  dear,  exquisite 
foot  !  so  small,  so  shapely,  so  perfectly  encased  in  the  fitting  kid  ! 
Then  her  stockings  ! — never,  should  I  die  for  it,  could  I  tell  you  their 
color ;  but  they  clung  to  her  perfect  limbs  with  such  loving  closeness 
that  they  seemed  to  have  grown  there — and  I  groaned  there,  too. 

HOP  O'-MY-THUMB. 

Peter  told  this  to  his  wife,  who  told  it  to  me. 


WHY  DO  MEN  MARRY. 

I  was  sitting  in  my  office — did  I  tell  you  that  I  had  an  office  ?  Well, 
it  was  on  the  first  floor,  the  last  of  a  long  series  of  rooms  ;  the  passage 
is  not  very  light,  nor  clean,  still  the  sun  streams  into  my  room  at  cer 
tain  hours  of  the  day,  lights  up  my  desk  and  dingy  books  and  the 
square  of  faded  carpet,  so  it  doesn't  look  so  very  bad,  and  I'm  rarely 
without  a  little  nosegay  from  some  one  of  my  confidential  female 
friends ;  this  gives  the  bit  of  color  for  the  picture.  I'm  not  exactly  a 
lawyer,  or  a  broker,  or  a  poet,  but  I  combine  the  three  in  a  sort  of  a  way. 
and  with  the  addition  of  advisor,  I  manage  to  make  my  living.  Tis 
true,  I'm  not  extravagant,  and  a  laudatory  poem  oftens  gets  me  a 
pair  of  new  breeches,  or  a  coat  or  a  vest,  they  don't  always  match,  but 
still  I'm  very  presentable  to  lunch  with  my  fair  friends. 

Well,  I  was  sitting  in  my  office  ruminating  on  human  nature  in  gen 
eral,  and  the  sorrows  of  the  gentler  sex  in  particular,  when  a  timid  rap 
sounded  on  the  partially  open  door — I  always  keep  my  door  open,  not 
wishing  any  "ragged-edge"  scandal  about  me. 


70  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"Come  in,"  I  cried  in  a  business-like  voice,  and  George's  wife — I 
won't  tell  her  name,  for  fear  you  would  recognize  her — came  in,  her 
pretty  face  looking  like  an  April  sky.  After  the  usual  salutations  were 
over,  and  I  had  ensconced  her  in  my  great  comfortable  leathern  chair 
she  burst  out  : 

"Oh  !  Uncle  John,  what  do  the  men  marry  for?" 

The  question  surprised,  nay,  I  must  confess,  rather  staggered  me, 
and  I  am  generally  equal  to  any  emergency,  but  in  a  moment  I  answer. 

"Why,  to  have  the  constant  companionship,  the  endearments,  the 
moral  support  of  just  such  charming  little  angels  as  you." 

"That's  what  I  thought  six  months  ago ;  but  experience  is  a  bad 
teacher  !" 

'  'What  !  young,  handsome,  six  months  married,  and — " 

"It's  more  than  six  months,  Uncle  John — it's  six  months  and  two 
weeks." 

"And  do  you  begin  to  find  experience  such  a  hard  teacher  ?" 

"Uncle  John,"  she  said,  solemnly  and  mysteriously,  "I  wouldn't  have 
believed  it — no  one,  not  even  an  angel,  could  have  made  me  believe 
six  months  ago  that  the  nice  little  dinners  I  get  up  would  have  to  be 
kept  in  the  oven  till  the  dishes  crack,  and  the  plates  get  so  hot  that 
George  swears — would  you  believe  it  ? — swears  at  burning  his  fingers 
handling  them,  when  he  has  kept  them  there  for  one  or  two  hours 
waiting  for  him  !  Who  could  be  a  good  housekeeper  if  their  husband 
has  no  regular  hours  for  his  meals?" 

"I  thought  he  liked  a  good  dinner  ?" 

"So  he  does  !  that's  why  I  cannot  understand  why  he  will  stop  at  the 
corner  to  finish  a  rubber  of  whist,  when  he  knows  that  the  dinner  is 
ready,  and  that  the  steak  is  the  very  best  in  the  market ;  and,  as  he  is 
an  amateur  cook,  he  knows  while  he  is  finishing  that  hateful  rubber, 
the  steak  loses  the  fine  flavor  it  has  on  just  leaving  the  fire — it  makes 
me  so  mad.  I'd  almost  as  leave  have  no  dinner." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  71 

What  could  I  suggest  to  >  ameliorate  this  sad  condition  of  affairs  ? 
Ah— 

"My  dear,  why  don't  you  leave  the  cooking  of  the  steak  till  he 
comes  ? 

"Oh  !  I've  tried  that ;  then  he  says  ;  'Darn  it  !  I  thought  dinner  was 
ready.'  Then,  when  I  try  to  explain  how  I  wished  him  to  have  it  just 
from  the  fire,  the  fire  that  was  so  bright  half  an  hour  ago,  it  is  either 
nearly  out,  or  filled  with  fresh  coal,  then  he  gets  mad.  Oh,  dear  !" 
and  she  sighed,  "I  didn't  dream  all  a  married  woman  has  to  endure  ! 
This  is  only  one  item  ;  I  should  tire  you  if  I  told  you  all." 

"Well,  my  dear,  you  will  settle  down  after  a  while,  and  become  ac 
customed  to  each  other's  ways." 

"Oh  !  Heaven  forbid  I  should  ever  become  accustomed  to  the  cold 
dinners,  or  the  dried-up  dinners,  or  wasting  half  my  time  waiting  ;  and 
as  to  settling  down,  why  he  never  has  time  (?)  to  take  me  any  place 
now,  and  to  all  intents  and  purposes  I  may  as  well  be  old  and  ugly, 
and  a  little  crippled,  into  the  bargain." 

"  My  dear,  do  you  make  your  home  comfortable  and  pretty  ;  have 
you  pictures,  statuettes,  books,  and  nicknacks  lying  around  ?" 
Here  she  fairly  burst  out  laughing. 

"Oh,  Uncle  John,  Uncle  John  ;  you  dear  old  unsophisticated  angel." 
And  she  threw  her  arms  about  my  neck,  and,  yes — I  could  not  be 
mistaken —  absolutely  kissed  me  on  the  cheek.  Was  she  losing  her 
reason,  with  all  her  troubles? 

"Why,  Uncle  John,  don't  you  know  that  George  don't  care  a 

for  pictures,  statues  and  things ;  so  has  furnished  the  parlor  very  neatly 
with  plain  carpet  and  a  set  of  furniture ;  dining-room  ditto,  without  a 
carpet  ?  But  as  I  like  the  little  trifles  that  make  home  pleasant,  espec 
ially  as  it  is  the  one  place  I  see  and  live  in,  nine-tenths — yes,  more 
than  that —  of  the  time,  I  want  something  beside  bare  walls  to  look  at  ; 
do  you  know  what  I  do  ?" 


72 


SECRETS   TOLD. 


"Why,  buy  those  things  that  you  admire  with  the  pocket-money 
your  husband  gives  you."  Here  came  another  fit  of  laughing  ;  so  I 
moved  my  chair  a  little,  being  rather  nervous. 

"Why — I'll  call  you  a  goose,  this  time.  Does  a  man  ever  give  his 
wife  pocket  money  ?  None  of  my  friends  have  any — unless  they  ask  a 
good  many  times  for  it ;  and  I'll  beg  no  man — not  even  if  I  am  mar 
ried  to  him — for  a  little  paltry  money  ;  so  I  just  go  through  his  pockets 
when  he  is  a  sleep — to  see  if  they  need  mending,  of  course — and  then, 
as  I'm  supposed  to  be  his  other  half,  I  divide  the 
contents.  So  I've — why,  Uncle  John,  why  do 
you  look  so  horrified  ?" 

I  was  aghast.  This  was  the  first  time  in  all  my 
confidences  that  any  lady  had  boldly  acknowledg 
ed  to  going  through  her  husband's  pockets!  Per 
haps,  after  all,  1  had  done  wisely  in  not  marry 
ing. 

"But,  my  child,"  I  presently  managed  to  say, 
''is  not  that  rather — "  "Not  at  all,  Uncle  John  ; 
why  all  we  married  ladies  do  it ;  or  where  would 
our  matinee  money  come  from,  or  our  lunch 
down  town,  or  our  gloves,  or  any  little  luxury? 
Why,  George  thinks  as  long  as  I've  a  dress,  petticoat  and  shoes  on  I'm 
dressed;  and  as  I  wear  his  soiled  collars  turned,  he  never  knows  but 
I  have  an  inexhaustible  supply.  But  as  other  gentlemen  often  see  me 
in  the  garden  or  on  the  street,  I  have  to  dress  for  them  and  my  lady 
friends." 

"All  married  men  are  not  the  same,  surely?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  from  what  my  friends  say  it's  pretty  much  six  of 
one  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  other.  But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  how  I 
try  to  beautify  my  home  on  little  or  nothing.  I've  bought  a  dollar 
table.  Oh,  those  dollar  stores  are  invaluable  for  taste  and  poverty. 


This  is  the  divide. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  73 

So  I  keep  a  fresh  bouquet,  cut  from  our  little  garden,  always  on  it; 
that  livens  the  room  up  a  bit.  Then  I've  bought  a  dollar  mat,  with 
a  dog  on  it.  George  likes  dogs,  so  I  thought  it  would  please  him. 
Then  I  made  coffee  berry  frames  for  the  three  graces  that  came  with  a 
weekly,  and  two  pretty  twenty-five  cent  chromos ;  and  you  have  no 
idea  how  much  more  home-like  the  room  looks.  Oh  !  J  forgot  the 
fly  trap  made  of  white  muslin,  that  I  hung  on  the  gas  burner — you 
see  we  don't  use  gas,  it's  too  dear — and  the  box  I  covered  with  red 
and  black  flannel  for  a  footstool ;  and  the  books,  I  thought  he  should 
not  complain  of  lack  of  intellectual  food,  so  last  week  I  bought  'Daniel 
Deronda'  and  Harper  s  Weekly.  But  it  don't  keep  him  in  the  house 
any  more — all  these  embellishments — for  he  reads  'Daniel'  when  he 
wakes  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  smokes  his  cigar,  and  the  pic 
tures  in  Harper's  occupied  him  just  five  minutes." 

All  my  well-known  phrases  of  consolation  and  advice  would  not 
touch  this  case;  so,  after  rubbing  my  nose  thoughtfully,  I  could  only 
say: 

"Let  us  hope  for  the  best." 

"Yes,  but  Uncle  John,  why  do  men  want  to  marry,  try  so  hard  to 
win  us,  yes,  and,  I  must  say  it,  tell  so  many  lies,  too,  about  how  de 
voted  they'll  be  ?  They  could  live  on  a  desert  island  forever  if  we  alone 
were  there,  and  that  we  are  the  only  woman  in  the  world  for  them  ? 
Oh !  they  all  say  the  same,  for  my  friends  told  me  so.  Why  don't  they 
speak  the  truth  right  out,  and  say  they  want  to  marry  us  to  look  after 
their  buttons,  see  their  shirts  are  not  stolen  by  the  China  washerman, 
that  their  dinner  is  ready  whenever  they  want  it,  and  to  have  somebody 
when  it's  cold  to  warm  their  beds  ?J) 

"  My  dear!" 

"  Oh!  it's  true,  Uncle  John!  and  I  love  my  husband  dearly,  and  I 
wouldn't  change  him  now  for  any  man  I  know;  but  if  love  is  blind,  I 
don't  believe  it,  for  I  love  and  yet  see  his  many  faults;  but  never  mind, 


74  SECRETS    TOLD. 

I'm  hungry,  so  let's  go  to  lunch;  I've  only  got  two  dimes  and  a  car 
ticket — I  guess  George  was  broke  last  night — but  I  know  a  place  in 
the  market  right  near,  where  we  can  get  shrimps,  bread  and  butter, 
and  the  nicest  cup  of  coffee  you  ever  tasted  for  ten  cents  each — let's  go." 
So  I  put  on  my  hat  and  went. 

Hop-o'-Mv-ThuMB. 
Louisa's  Secret. 


DANIEL  DERONDA-VOLUME  SECOND. 

I  did  not  untie  the  pink  wrapping  string  of  volume  the  second,  with 
eager  haste,  in  a  dimly  lighted  car,  as  I  did  that  of  No.  1.  I  knew 
what  I  expected,  and  was  so  little  moved  by  any  powerful  emotion, 
that  I  had  allowed  more  than  a  month  to  pass,  before  this  volume  rested 
in  my  hand. 

As  I  read,  I  wondered  what  could  be  the  secret  of  Daniel's  popular 
ity,  or  rather  why  had  the  work  brought  so  much  money  to  the  author, 
for  that  the  book  is  popular — meaning  by  that,  liked  by  the  mass  of 
readers,  I  do  not  believe. 

In  an  interval  of  my  second  day's  reading  of  the  last  volume,  hap 
pening  to  meet  an  acquaintance,  and  speaking  of  what  I  was  doing, 
he  remarked  : 

' '  Daniel  was  a  little  disappointing,  was'nt  he  ?" 

I  could  only  truthfully  acquiesce.  Then  meeting  George's  wife 
shortly  after,  on  her  way  to  invest  in  stocks,  she  exclaimed: 

"Oh!  Uncle  John,  I  didn't  like  that  old  book  you  lent,  me,  one  bit; 
a  couple  of  my  friends  have  read  it,  and  they  don't  like  it  at  all,  either!" 

"  But,  my  dear,  don't  you  admire  the  subtle  philosophizing,  that 
the  critics  so  commend  ?" 


SECRETS    TOLD.  75 

"  Subtle  bosh!  If  I  wanted  to  read  a  treatise  on  the  Jews,  I  would 
have  bought  one,  and  I  should  hope  it  would  be  a  little  less  obscure, 
and  tell  a  little  more  what  it  meant,  than  Mordecai's  ravings." 

"  My  dear,  you  are*  not  yet  educated  up  to  it,  that's  plainly  to  be 
seen. " 

"  And  I  don't  want  to  be  either;  when  a  person's  philosophizing  is 
so  very  deep,  that  each  page  of  the  same  requires  an  hour's  study  to 
get  even  a  taint  glimmering  of  the  meaning,  it's  about  time  to  class 
novels  with  metaphysics,  and  study  them  at  school.  How  do  you 
like  Gwendolen,  for  instance  ?" 

"  She  is  a  very  sweet  woman,  or  has  the  making  of  one,  rightly 
circumstanced,  and  her  husband  is  a  heartless  brute!" 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  Ho!  ho!  ho!  Uncle  John,  that's  just  like  you 
men;  you  take  the  part  of  any  woman,  no  matter  how  mean  or  bad 
she  is,  provided  she  is  not  your  own  wife." 

"  And  ain't  it  just  the  reverse  with  you  ladies,  my  dear  ?  You  go 
against  every  female  no  matter  how  good  she  is,  just  because  she  is  a 
female." 

"Indeed,  you  are  mistaken;  but  what  would  you  think  of  me,  if  I 
carried  a  sharp  dagger  about  me,  and  thought  continually  how  I  could 
use  it,  where  it  would  do  most  good — excuse  my  slang,  nunckey — 
just  because  George  objected  to  my  flirting  with  Ned,  or  wanting  to 
see  him  alone  every  day  in  the  week,  to  tell  him  how  very  naughty 
I  was,  for  coming  between  my  husband  and  an  old  sweetheart,  and 
how  very,  very  disappointed  I  was,  because  I  could  not  hold  my  lord 
under  my  thumb." 

"  But,  Louisa," — this  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  called  her  by 
her  Christian  name,  and  my  temerity  almost  startled  me — "  See  how 
meanly  he  began  to  treat  her  from  their  very  wedding  day." 

"  Meanly!  why  if  George  paid  me  as  much  attention  as  he  did  her, 
I  should  feel  myself  in  the  seventh  Heaven!  He  did  not  differ  a  bit 


76  SECRETS    TOLD. 

from  what  he  was  as  a  lover,  except  he  felt  well  enough  acquainted  to 
d — things  occasionally;  and  I  should  like  to  see  the  husband  who 
does  not,  sooner  or  later,  use  that  privilege.  I  heard  of  one  the  other 
night,  but  he  isn't  dead  yet!" 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  not  a  deep  student  of  human  nature." 
"  Do  you  mean  by  that,  that  it  is  only  human  arid  womanly  for 
every  lady  who  is  compelled  by  a  stronger  will  than  her  own,  to  yield 
an  unwilling  obedience,  to  wish  the  person  dead,  if  it  happens  to  be 
her  husband,  and  to  have  very  little  compunctions  about  helping  him 
to  that  state,  either  ?" 

"Oh!  no!  I  didn't  mean  that!" 

"Divest  her  of  her  statuesque  form,  her  serpentine  neck,  and  her 
narrow  eyes,  let  her  be  Mrs.  Flannigan,  subdued  to  obedience,  not  by 
a  strong  will  and  a  steady  glance,  but  by  a  strong  hand  and  a  black 
eye,  or  by  what  many  of  Gwendolen's  less  fortunate  sisters  have  often 
received,  a  good  hiding,  in  the  language  of  the  British  lords,  and  you 
wouldn't  feel  so  sentimental  about  her." 

"Do  men  ever  beat  their  wives?" 

"Why  you  unsophisticated  thing!  Do  you  never  read  the  news 
papers?" 

"Yes.  But  I  thought  those  Bohemian  inventions  as  jokes  on  the  sex!" 

"I  guess  some  of  the  sex  wish  they  were.  But  about  Gwendolen, 
to  whom  the  author  devotes  so  many  pages,  trying  to  make  clear  to 
the  readers,  her  true  inwardness,  and  yet  lets  her  turn  out  to  be  less 
than  nothing — but  I  suppose  that  gives  a  good  chance  for  a  sequel;  but 
don't  you  think  her  a  murderess  in  her  heart,  and  with  less  excuse  than 
millions  of  her  sex  have,  this  rery  day  and  hour  ?'' 

''I  can  hardly  think  that." 

"Umph !  If  you  were  a  married  man  I  could  convince  you.  Sup 
pose  you  had  lots  of  money." 

'  'I  wish  I  had" — sotto  voce. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  77 

''And  had  married  a  poor  but  rather  pretty  girl,  given  her  mother  a 
good  income,  and  loaded  her  with  jewels  and  fine  dresses;  that  you 
were  tolerably  young  and  good  looking — " 

"I  was,  a  few  years  ago." 

"Took  her  to  balls,  parties,  journeys,  and  thought  enough  of  her  to 
feel  Jealous,  wouldn't  you  think  if  she  wasn't  happy  she  must  have  a 
bad  heart  and  a  very  discontented  mind  ?  And  if  she  consented  so 
gladly  to  your  being  drowned,  not  trying  to  help  save  you,  when  it  was 
in  her  power,  till  too  late,  you'd  think  it  but  a  lame  excuse,  that  he 
ordered  her  how  to  work  the  tiller,  and  persuaded  her  unwillingly  to 
go  boating — I  only  wish  George  would  take  me  boating! — when  she 
wanted  to  have  a  flirtation,  or  to  confess  for  the  twentieth  time,  how 
naughty  she  was  to  a  dear  friend,  wouldn't  you  think  her  a  fit  subject 
for  a  trial  and  the  penitentiary,  instead  of  ten  thousand  a  year  and  a 
fine  house  ?" 

' '  Now  you  put  it  in  that  light,  I  don't  think  I  would  like  to  be  her 
second  husband.  But  Mirah  and  Deronda — there  are  some  very 
good  characters  in  the  book." 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  if  there  was'nt,  and  the  author  receive,  as  is  said, 
about  thirty  thousand  dollars  for  her  work.  Didn't  you  recognize  agreat 
similarity  between  Deronda  and  Julian  Grey,  especially  in  the  chapter 
where  Gwendolen  steals  away  from  the  walking  party,  and  hurries 
back,  to  catch  Daniel  in  the  library  ?  It's  so  much  like  a  scene  from 
the  New  Magdalen." 

"  Yes,  I  noticed  that  several  of  their  interviews  bore  evidence  that 
the  author  had  been  impressed  with  Wilkie  Collins'  work;  also  that  in 
the  employment  of  Lush,  to  communicate  the  contents  of  the  will, 
there  was  something  strongly  suggestive  of  Dombey  and  Son;  but  I 
suppose  it's  true  '  there's  nothing  new  under  the  sun.'  " 

"  It's  truer  that  '  nothing  is  so  successful  as  success  ;'  and  when 
people  read  of  how  into  the  hundred  thousands  the  receipts  of  Daniel 


78  SECRETS    TOLD. 

went,  every  one  wanted  a  copy,  thinking  it  must  be  something  won 
derful.  Now  the  subtle  philosophizing  that  seems  to  be  so  spoken  of, 
I  consider  the  utterings  of  a  dreamer,  who  sees  things  but  visionary, 
and  tries  by  a  multitude  of  words,  to  express  images  which  are  but  em 
bryos  of  thoughts  in  the  writer's  mind." 

"  Whew  !  Why,  Louisa,  that's  the  most  learned  sentence  I  ever 
heard  you  speak  !" 

cc  Oh,  indeed!  because  I'm  good  tempered,  lively,  and  little,  I  sup 
pose  you  thought  I  had  no  sense." 

"No,  my  dear;  but  women  seem  to  be  so  taken  up  with  dress,  and 
petty  gossip,  that — " 

"  Oh!  Uncle  John,  don't  slander  our  sex!  You  know  we  have  to 
dress,  and  we  have  to  talk,  yet  we  still  have  time  to  cultivate  our 
brains  a  bit,  and  have  some  little  opinion  of  our  own  about  the  books 
we  read,  and  I  must  say  that  Daniel  Deronda  made  me  have  the  blues, 
and  be  melancholy  and  cross  for  two  days,  especially  during  the  time 
I  read  his  interviews  with  his  mother;  such  a  hard  hearted  woman  as  I 
believe,  never  lived  in  heaven  or  on  earth." 

'•'What!  do  you  think  singers  or  actresses  have  the  same  feelings  as 
other  women  ?" 

"Why  shouldn't  they  ?  and  be  even  more  intense  in  their  loves  and 
hateSj  as  they  must  understand  every  passion  in  order  to  depict  them 
with  any  degree  of  satisfaction  to  an  intelligent  audience.  It  is  a 
back-handed  slap  to  a  great  profession,  that  is  very  unkind  and  gratu 
itous  of  George  Elliot.  But,  there,  I've  talked  till  I'm  hungry;  come 
across  the  street  with  me  till  I  see  about  some  'Dardinelles;'  it'll  be 
worth  ever  so  much  some  day,  then  you  shall  come  to  my  house  and 
take  lunch.  I've  got  some  real  nice  crab  salad  that  George  caught  in 
the  bay — not  the  salad,  but  the  crabs — plenty  of  mustard  in  it,  and 
I'll  make  you  a  nice  cup  of  tea." 

I  sighed  as  I  shook  my  head,  remembering  I  had  no  car  tickets,  and 
no  portion  of  the  Comstock  Lode  in  my  pocket  to  buy  any,  so  I  went 
home  and  read  the  advertisements  in  the  back  of  "Daniel  Deronda," 
which  I'll  sell  now  for  half  price,  or  a  dozen  street-car  tickets.  Adieu. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


79 


COURTING. 


I  was  shocked,  horrified,  almost  dumbfounded!  There  was  Miss 
Sarah  (she  calls  herself  Sallie)  in  the  parlor  with  her  two  beaux,  and 
and  her  father,  mother  and  sister,  in  the  kitchen  with  the  pots  and 
pans,  to  which  latter  place  I  was  invited  to  enter.  I  did  so,  sitting  on 
the  edge  of  a  chair,  and  sharing  with  the  others  in  an  impatient  wait 
ing  for  the  young  men  to  finish  their  remarks  about  the  weather,  and 
their  critical  analysis  of  the  various  performances  of  Edwin  Booth; 
but  their  departure  hung  fire; 
perhaps  each  tried  to  sit  the 
other  out,  or  the  society  of  the 
charming  Sarah  might  have 
been  too  fascinating  to  have 
been  easily  dispensed  with.  At 
all  events,  I  left  while  their 
forced  laughs  of  merriment 
were  still  stealing  through  cracks 
and  keyholes.  I  went  home 
and  ruminated. 

When  I  was  young,  and  my 
sisters — I  had  four  of  them — 
had  company,  no  one  thought 
of  leaving  the  parlor  while  the 
favored  young  gents  aired  their 
ideas  of  matters  and  things  in 
general.  Gracious  !  it  would  These  are  the  beaux. 


80  SECRETS    TOLD. 

have  taken  four  parlors  to  have  accommodated  each  separate  sister  if 
their  courting  was  to  be  as  mysterious  and  secret  as  the  holding  of  a 
Freemason's  Lodge!  But  girls  in  those  days  were  different;  they 
honored  their  parents,  and  thought  it  was  quite  as  well  to  find  out 
their  lover's  characteristics  in  the  bosom  of  their  families,  where  papa 
could  joke  them,  and  the  little  ones  could  pull  their  hair,  and  demand 
contributions  of  candy,  and  where  a  kiss  at  the  gate,  and  sundry  stolen 
glances  in  the  parlor  was  considered  a  good  night's  courting,  and  a 
blissful  reward  for  a  five  miles  walk.  But  they  have  changed,  and 
marriages  are  not  so  numerous,  and  no  wonder,  for  when  a  young  girl 
banishes  the  family  from  the  parlor,  she  deliberately  says  in  actions, 
which,  they  say,  speak  louder  than  words: 

"My  dear  Charles  Augustus,  here  I  am  alone;  now  court  me.  I 
expect  to  entrap  you  for  a  husband,  and  the  folks  are  so  eager  to  get 
rid  of  me,  that  they  will  give  us  the  exclusive  use  of  the  parlor,  so 
that  I  can  have  every  possible  chance  to  exercise  the  power  of  my 
charms,  for  an  indefinite  number  of  weeks  to  accomplish  that  wished 
for  result." 

Now,  is  it  strange  that  breach  of  promise  cases  are  numerous, 
when  a  man  is  almost  forced  to  propose,  and  then  so  deluged  with 
sweetness  before  the  wedding  day,  that  he  is  surfeited  and  thinks  he 
has  made  a  mistake  ;  that  there  is  so  little  left  to  find  out  about  the 
young  lady  that  all  the  novelty  is  gone;  that  he  could  not  be  happy 
with  her;  in  fact,  he  gets  to  rather  dislike  her.  And  so  Clorinda 
weeps  over  broken  vows,  or  if  she  is  of  a  practical  turn  of  mind,  es 
timates  her  sorrows  at  so  many  thousands  of  dollars,  and  confides  her 
heart's  secrets  to  the  tender  confidence  of  a  sensational  lawyer. 

"  Umph!  you'd  like  a  girl  to  marry  a  man  who  had  never  been 
permitted  to  gaze  upon  her  lovely  face,  like  in  those  wicked  old 
Eastern  countries,"  some  of  my  sweet  friends  might  say.  But  no,  I 
would  have  a  happy  medium,  where  kisses  and  caresses  were  not  so 


SECRETS   TOLD.  81 

numerous  as  to  be  no  novelty  after  marriage.  I  would  leave  a  little 
to  the  imaignation  and  to  the  anticipation.  I  would  have  it  so,  that 
if  the  acquaintance  developed  characteristics  that  were  disagreeable 
either  could  retreat  without  having  the  whole  community  scandalized, 
and  the  edge  of  the  lady's  purity  so  dulled  that  a  second  suitor  would 
be  loth  to  present  himself. 

All  night  long  I  dreamed  of  courting,  lovers'  quarrels,  breaches  of 
promise,  weeping  maidens,  sarcastic  young  men;  a  very  kaleidoscope 
of  the  affections,  and  I  arose  at  the  first  break  of  day,  and  deluging 
my  face  and  head  in  cold  water,  soon  dispelled  the  illusions  of  the 
night. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  George's  wife  rapped  at  my  office  door. 

' '  My  dear,  you're  just  the  person  I  wanted  to  see."  Then  I  asked 
her  ideas  on  the  subject  of  the  exclusiveness  of  courting.  She  burst 
out  into  a  merry  laugh  and  said  : 

"  I  want  no  big,  glaring  parlor  all  to  myself.  I  don't  care  how 
many  of  the  family  are  present;  it  only  gives  piquancy  to  the  progress 
of  the  acquaintance.  Only  give  me  a  few  dim  nooks,  like  the  shadow 
of  a  curtain,  a  bow  window,  or  a  projecting  grand  piano,  with  an  oc 
casional  moonlight  walk,  and  I'll  get  all  the  proposals  I  want,  if  I  was 
two  or  three  times  a  widow." 

"You  are  a  sensible  woman,  after  my  own  heart.  So  you  never 
sent  your  mother  into  the  kitchen,  and  your  sisters  to  bed,  so  as  ..to 
have  George  all  to  yourself?" 

"  My  mother  would  have  boxed  my  ears  had  I  proposed  such  a 
thing,  and  my  father  would  have  looked  like  a  thunder  cloud.  We 
did  enough  courting  to  become  acquainted,  engaged,  and  married  all 
within  three  months,  and  we  had  the  novelty  of  finding  out  each 
other's  best  perfections  afterwards  ;  not  but  that  we  found  out  a  few 
little  disagreeable  qualities  also,;  but  that  is  better  than  knowing  each 
other  so  well  before  marriage,  that  you  can  almost  tell  what  each  other 


82  SECRETS   TOLD. 

is  going  to  do  and  say  from  day  to  day.  If  I  was  a  man  I  would 
marry  no  girl  that  threw  her  herself  at  my  head,  as  it  were,  and  would 
not  accept  me  as  a  friend  of  the  family,  at  least  till  I  knew  something 
of  my  own  mind.  I  think  this  over-anxiousness  to  show  a  man  you 
are  ready  to  be  married.,  is  what  prevents  many  men  from  even  visiting 
families  where  there  are  young  ladies,  for  fear  they  shall  be  looked 
upon  as  suitors,  before  they  have  ever  made  their  third  visit.  The 
girls  would  fare  better  if  they  placed  a  higher  value  upon  themselves, 
and  remember  they  are  more  sensible,  and  really  more  charming  in 
their  twenties  than  in  their  bread-and-butter  teens." 

c<  Louisa,  if  ever  you're  a  widow  I'll — " 

But  she  burst  out  laughing  and  said  : 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  about  that.  But  I  want  you  to  come  with 
me  and  show  me  George's  tailor,  for  I  am  going  to  have  a  nice  dress 
ing  gown  made  for  him  for  a  Christmas  gift,  and  I  want  it  to  fit  well, 
for  he  has  such  a  handsome  figure." 

I  put  on  my  hat  with  a  sigh.  Ah  !  why  had  I  neglected  my  oppor 
tunities  in  the  arrogance  of  my  young  manhood  !  Ah!  why  had  I  no 
fluttering  earthly  angel  to  minister  to  my  wants,  and  think  my  figure 
handsome — echo  answered  why  ? 

HCP-O'-MY-THUMB. 

What  Louisa  thinks. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  83 


TO  THE  GIRLS  OF  TO-DAY. 

I'm  an  old  woman — an  old,  old  woman;  have  buried  three  hus 
bands  and  am  carefully  nursing  the  fourth  in  hopes  of  having  some 
body  to  bury  me;  still  my  faculties  are  as  clear  as  ever,  and  I  can  see 
a  rent  in  a  petticoat  without  my  specs. 

Now,  girls,  I  want  you  all  to  come  to  me  with  your  little  joys  and 
sorrows,  pleasures  and  disappointments,  for  I've  had  experience — a 
whole  library  full.  .  Only  think,  four  husbands!  But  that  you'd  call 
me  a  cackling  old  hen,  I'd  give  you  the  history  of  each. 

Now,  my  dear  girls,  I  know  you  are  pretty,  with  the  delicate  peach 
bloom — natural — still  on  your  cheeks;  I  know  you  are  smart,  with 
your  high  schools  and  colleges,  and  your  drawing  and  music,  and 
though  you  think  you  know  it  all,  more  than  your  mother,  grand 
mother  and  aunt  combined,  yet  pause  a  moment  and  take  the  advice 
of  an  old  woman.  I  know  its  the  one  gift  unappreciated,  yet,  often 
when  followed,  worth  millions.  N.  B. — Don't  always  follow  it  im 
plicitly  when  k  concerns  points  in  stocks,  for  once  in  a  thousand  it  may 
happen  to  be  fallacious.  You  are  willing,  nay,  eager,  to  accept 
chocolate  drops,  gloves,  gum,  candy  garters,  in  fact  almost  anything 
that  has  a  pecuniary  value,  yet  unwilling  to  take  what  has  cost  years  of 
pain  and  trouble,  care  and  solicitude — advice  born  of  experience.  I 
know  that  advice  in  these  days  is  like  the  aforesaid  stocks — the  bottom 
is  gone  clean  out,  and  it  is  not  considered  to  be  worth  the  assessment 
of  listening  to.  Yet  did  we  not  value  the  experiences  of  those  who 
lived  before  us,  we  should  still  believe  the  world  to  be  flat,  and  the 


84 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


long-tailed  comet  would  cause  the  sinners  among  us  to  shriek  in  ter 
ror  of  utter  annihiliation  in  a  general  smash  up;  but  as  it  is,  we  se 
renely  view  his  Ancient  Terrorship  through  the  most  improved 
glasses,  and  discuss  the  gasses  of  which  he  is  composed.  We  are 
thousands  of  years  older — in  knowledge  I  mean — than  the  ancients 
just  because  we  have  had  the  sense  to  heed  and  make  use  of  their 
experiences;  then  why  not  take  the  experienced  advice  of  one  who 
knows,  especially  when  it  concerns  your  domestic  happiness  ?  Now 
all  this  is  prefatory  in  hopes  to  induce  you  dear  angels  to  listen  to 
Aunt  Polly,  and  she  savs,  "Girls,  dear  girls,  don't  marry  too  young." 

Now,  don't  answer 
this  with  a  "pooh,  pooh!" 
"She  married  young,  her 
self."  Yes,  my  dears, 
I  did;  that's  the  reason 
I  can  help  you ,  for  what 
is  more  ridiculous  than 
a  person  trying  to  advise 
on  a  subject  they  know 
nothing  about  ?  But 
remember  I  have  had 
four  husbands.  You 
think,  no  doubt,  "Ah, 
I'm  different  from  other 
people  ;  I  shall  manage 
my  husband."  My  dear, 

This  is  before  Marriage.  WOmen    have    thought    SO 

since  the  world    began,  but  how  many  have  succeeded  ? 

Look  at  the  gaunt,  hollow  cheeks  and  the  lines  of  dissatisfaction  of 
thousands  of  women  who  pass  you  in  an  afternoon's  walk;  do  their 
faces  tell  of  mastership,  or  the  utmost  enjoyment  of  domestic  bliss  ? 


SECRETS    TOLD.  85 

Rather  don't  they  look  as  if  they  dare  hardly  call  their  souls  their  own  ?' 

When  we  are  sweet  sixteen,  with  no  more  sense  than  can  be  easily 
accommodated  in  our  pretty  heads,  we  are  apt  to  think  we  are  the  mo 
tive  power  of  the  whole  world.  But  let  us  begin  at  the  beginning. 

What  is  the  first  desire  of  nearly  every  newly  married  man  ?  Why 
a  son  and  heir,  not  a  daughter  and  heiress,  you  may  be  sure;  and  the 
poor,  luckless  little  female  who  happens  to  be  first  of  the  family  is  to 
be  pitied.  So,  you  see,  you  almost  come  into  the  world  uncalled  for, 
unless  two  or  three  unruly  boys  precede  you. 

Why  I  heard  the  other  day  of  a  man  who  beat  his  wife,  because 
their  first  happened  to  be  a  poor  girly;  and  another,  because  the  third 
was  of  the  gentler  sex  when  he  wanted  another  boy;  wouldn't  speak 
to  his  wife  for  weeks.  A  word  in  your  ear :  I  should  think  such  a 
person  would  have  nothing  but  girls,  being  so  very  unmanly. 

Then  think  of  the  poor  baby  girls  of  China,  India,  and  almost 
every  heathen  country.  Think,  also,  of  the  countries  nearer  home; 
the  son  always  inheriting  first,  the  son  always  ruling  first;  the  son,  the 
son,  always  first  in  college,  in  business,  in  clothes.  Look  at  this  coun 
try;  the  son  always  President,  always  Senator,  always  Congressman, 
always  voter,  always  almost  everything — doctor,  lawyer,  soldier  and 
sailor.  Then  you,  a  mere  woman,  four  or  five  feet  high,  with  a  hun 
dred  or  two  of  avoidupois,  no  trade,  no  profession,  with  perhaps,  a 
pretty  face,  and  a  handsome  pull-back,  can  rule  a  free-born  man  ! 
Why,  the  idea  is  preposterous. 

Look  what  somebody  said  of  Englishmen  the  other  day.  That  they 
acquired  their  manly  look  of  superiority  and  independence,  by  being 
master  in  their  own  houses;  and  I'll  tell  you  what  that  means:  I  lived 
in  that  little  island,  myself,  once. 

"Jane,"  the  wife,  "brush  my  coat.  Al,  do  up  my  shoes.  Sallie, 
fasten  my  trousers  straps  under  the  shoes.  Elizabeth,  brush  my  hat," 
a  stovepipe.  "Maria,  get  my  umbrella."  And  so  he  stands  in  the 


86 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


middle  of  the  floor,  his  family  flying  about  to  obey  with  alacrity  his 
slightest  behest.  I've  helped,  myself.  Truly,  an  Englishman  is  boss 
of  his  own  shanty. 

When  the  young  girl  is  about  to  escape  from  pinafores,  has  been 
to  two  picnics,  one  grown  up  party  and  a  matinee,  she  thinks  she  is 
ready  to  be  married.  Why,  a  sixteen-year-older,  who  can  neither 
read,  write  or  cipher,  told  me  to-day  she  was  tired  of  this  living 
single  !  And  if  a  boy,  with  the  down  just  appearing  on  his  upper 
lip,  has  danced  with  her  twice,  squeezed  her  hand,  and  perhaps 
kissed  her  over  the  gate,  she  thinks  she  cannot  live  without  him  ;  that 
he  is  Apollo,  Hercules  and  Jupiter  combined  ;  and  if  he  has  stooped 
for  her  fan,  carried  her  parcels,  and  given  her  a  box  of  gloves  for  a 
philopena,  that  he  will  make  a  most  generous  and  devoted  husband. 
Alas  !  she  will  find  that  after  marriage  she  will  go  with  holes  in  her 
gloves,  and  have  no  fan  to  pick  up  ;  and  as  for  carrying  parcels  ;  how 
often  have  von  <-^n  the  wife  with  the  baby  in  her  arms,  the  next  hold 


This  is  After  Marriage. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  87 

of  her  dress,  and  a  bag  and  bundle  to  boot,  while  her  lord  and  master 
walks  serenely  ahead — just  a  foot  or  two — empty  handed. 

This  is  not  uncommon,  for  I  speak  by  the  card.  But  this  is  the 
least  you'll  have  to  complain  of.  Remember,  all  men — custom  says  so 
— must  sow  their  wild  oats  ;  of  course  there  are  some  exceptions  ;  my 
third,  for  instance,  was  a  most  exemplary  man  ;  so  that  if  you  marry 
such  a  young  man ;  who  has  riot  had  time  to  sow  the  aforesaid  oats 
before  marriage,  he'll  find,  or  make  time  to  engage  in  that  delightful 
— to  him — occupation,  after.  But  that's  no  guide  for  your  actions, 
he'll  soon  let  you  know  ;  for  do  you  look  twice  at  the  same  man,  or 
ride  quietly  to  see  the  seals,  as  he  thinks  nothing  of  doing,  and  he'll 
let  you  know  who  boards  and  clothes  you. 

Does  he  think  the  house  ever  gets  tedious  to  you,  as  it  does  to  him 
in  less  than  a  half  hour  consecutive  stay  in  it,  and  offer  to  take  you  for 
a  walk  or  drive  ?  Not  much.  I've  been  married  years  upon  years, 
yet  even  my  exemplary  third  only  mildly  hinted  at  it  once,  when  I 
looked  pale  and  tired,  and  called  his  attention  to  the  fact ;  in  all  our 
other  walks  together,  I  led  him  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  with  a  re 
signed  look  upon- his  dear  face,  pathetic  by  its  patience,  especially  if 
we  were  accompanied  by  our  ninth.  So  if  you  marry  young,  you're 
apt  to  have  your  ninth  or  tenth  before  your  hair  is  gray,  and  not  to 
have  visited  the  next  county  to  you  unless  allowed  to  by  your  devoted, 
who  doesn't  go  himself  and  can  have  such  a  jolly  time  while  you  are 
away,  playing  bachelor.  Bend  down  your  head.  Don't  you  go,  at 
least  alone. 

How  many  parties  do  you  think  your  beloved  will  take  you  to  after 
the  ceremony  ?  Make  the  most  of  that  ceremony,  for  it  will  be  the 
last  in  which  you  are  the  observed  of  all  observers,  unless  you  hap 
pen  to  become  a  widow  several  times. 

"Why  don't  you  bring  your  wife,  Will  ?" 

"  Oh,  the  old  woman's  at  home  minding  the  baby.    She's  always  got 


O5  SECRETS    TOLD. 

a  baby  to  mind."  The  last  part  in  a  sneering  and  contemptuous  tone. 
Or  if  there's  no  baby,  alack  and  alas  !  it  is  worse  still,  for  then  it  is 
the  lodge — the  perennial  lodge,  claims  him  almost  body  and  soul,  and 
he  pays  you  in  neglect  for  the  many  jokes  a  childless  married  man  has 
to  endure.  And  don't  you  dare  ask  him  where  he's  been  and  why 
he's  been,  or  he  may  answer  you  as  my  fourth  paralyzed  me  with  : 

"I  want  none  of  your  chin  music  about  it,  either  !" 

I  could  have  fainted,  but  I  was  in  bed,  and  could  thus  make  no 
sensation  falling  in  his  arms,  so  I  swallowed  my  wrath.  But  there, 
I've  done  for  to-day.  Another  time  I'll  tell  you  how  I  managed  my 
exemplary  third,  with  the  experience  gained,  alas,  and  felt,  by  my  two 
former  experiments. 

Be  patient,  dear  girls,  and  don't  marry  till  you  hear  from  me  again. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 

What  Aun'.  Polly  knows. 


A  LOQUACIOUS  WOMAN. 

Heaven  defend  me  from  a  loquacious  woman!  for  heaven  alone 
can;  no  artifice,  no  seclusion  of  yours  can  accomplish  the  desired  end 
unless  strong-  bolts  and  bars  divide  you,  then  I  do  believe  she  would 
cackle  through  the  door. 

Oh,  I  am  almost  sick  and  weary  of  life.  I'm  getting  to  despise  the 
sex;  to  think  it's  only  idiots  who  marry,  and  fools  who  help  to  multi 
ply  the  race,  and  all  on  account  of  not  one  fair  woman,  but  one 
loquacious  ditto. 

Will  her  tongue  never  cease  till  the  coffin  covers  her,  or  will  that 
be  insufficient  till  six  feet  of  solid  earth  adds  its  pressure  ? 

Married  men,  I   pity  you,    if  this  woman    is  a  sample  of  her  sex. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  89 

Should  you  hang,  drown  and  shoot  yourself  all  at  the  same  time,  and 
should  your  end  be  annihilation,  still  it  would  be  a  blissful  change 
from  the  eternal  chatter,  chatter,  chatter,  cackle,  cackle,  cackle,  buss, 
buss,  buss,  burr,  burr-r-r-r-r. 

I've  just  got  acquainted  with  one,  and  I'm  to  be  pitied;  I  did  not 
believe  such  a  thing  existed  in  this  world  or  the  next.  I  immure  my 
self  in  a  book  and  pretend  not  to  hear,  but,  "  Don't  you  think  so  ?"  is 
reiterated  louder  and  louder,  till  you  must  answer,  or  your  nerves 
would  sting  you  to  death. 

"  How  much  did  it  cost?"  "  Have  you  had  it  long?"  "Does 
any  body  else  wear  that  style  ?"  "  Has  Mr.  Smith  had  his  girl  long  ? 
Does  she  get  out  often  ?  Does  she  sleep  alone  ?  What  does  she 
get  ?"  Just  as  though  I  was  a  walking  compendium  of  the  private 
affairs  of  the  whole  neighborhood.  Oh,  good  gracious!  but  wont  she 
revenge  the  wrongs  of  her  sex!  Yes,  ten  thousand  of  them.  I  can 
now  see  the  ghastly,  grim  reality  of  the  joke,  "This  man  was  talked  to 
death!"  illustrated  with  a  coffin  and  cross  bones,  displayed  on  a  man's 
lappel  when  he  wishes  to  be  rid  of  a  bore.  I  would  almost  have  one 
photographed  on  my  forehead,  if  this  woman  would  take  the  hint; 
but  alas!  these  kind  of  people  will  take  your  time,  your  tea,  your  cake, 
but  they  won't  take  your  hints,  asking  your  opinion  on  all  their  little 
petty  affairs,  that  you  don't  care  a  blank  for,  that  you've  got  no  opinion 
about,  and  wouldn't  have  for  almost  any  money. 

I  wouldn't  blame  the  husband  of  such  a  wife  for  seeking  oblivion 
in  the  bowl,  or  resting  his  nerves  in  the  corner  grocery  in  a  quiet 
game  of  whist,  or  driving  to  the  Cliff  House  to  watch  the  seals,  or— 
but  no;  he'll  never  seek  the  society  of  females;  his  one  is  more  than 
enough;  it's  full  measure  and  running  over. 

How  a  person's  tongue  can  be  their  greatest  enemy  and  other 
people's  also! 

I  once  knew  a  gentleman  that  I  thought   it   would  be  quite  a   task 


90  SECRETS    TOLD. 

i 

for  any  lady  to  beat  in  talking,  but  he  did  say  something  once  in  a 
while.  But  this  woman  begins  when  she  opens  her  eyes,  and  keeps 
it  up  till  blessed  sleep  seals  her  tongue,  and  still  she  says  nothing. 

You  can't  get  rid  of  her,  either.  Did  you  ever  have  a  burr  stick  to 
your  clothing  when  you  went  into  the  fields  ?  She  is  a  burr;  you 
can't  get  rid  of  her;  if  you  go  into  another  room,  she  soon  follows;  if 
you  go  into  the  garden  she  is  there;  if  you  don't  answer  it's  all  the  same; 
she  talks,  talks,  talks,  for  the  ineffable  pleasure  of  hearing  her  own 
voice. 

Now  I  know  it's  pleasant  to  converse  with  a  woman  when  she  has  a 
few  ideas  back  of  her  magnificent  eyes,  but  even  such  a  one  should  be 
chary  of  her  visits  and  words;  never  satiate  a  person  however  much 
you  may  like  them,  and  they  like  you;  it's  well  to  have  even  your 
husband  desire  you  should  say  more,  than  wish  you  had  not  said  so 
much. 

And  it's  this  loquacity  that  causes  so  much  of  the  scandal  and  misery 
of  the  world;  no  harm  was  meant,  but  oh,  the  women  do  love  to  talk; 
they  would  die  with  out  it,  as  I  once  heard  a  little  boy  who  was  very 
hoarse  say: 

"I'd  rather  be  dead,  than  not  to  talk!" 

But  oh,  woman,  gentle  woman,  don't  drive  one  distracted;  don't 
make  them  wish  that  either  they  or  you  were  never  born;  there's  time 
enough  in  three  score  years  and  ten  to  say  a  good  deal;  don't  try  to 
compress  it  all  in  three  score  minutes.  Be  warned — be  advised  by 
one  who  has  had  his  nerves  tingling,  and  was  ready  to  commit  almost 
any  crime  by  being  condemned  to  share  the  house  for  three  weeks 
with  a  fearful,  gingling,  maddening,  loquacious  woman.  Pray  for 
me. 

HOP-O'-  M  Y-THUMB. 

Frank's  experience. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  91 


THE  BABY. 


We've  all  been  it — the  bright,  the  beautiful  baby,  the  ootsie-tootsie, 
mamma's  darling ;  the  prettiest,  sweetest,  dearest  little  bit  of  mortal 
ity  that  ever  graced  long  clothes  and  had  the  colic. 

"Yes,  you've  all  been  it !"  murmurs  the  growler,  not  always  the 
old  bachelor,  but  sometimes  the  young  one,  who  imagines  that  he 
came  into  the  world  wiih  pants  on,  or  was  of  such  an  angelic  disposi 
tion  that  he  never  cried  when  the  pins  were  running  into  him  half  an 
inch,  or  when  he  was  trotted  till  every  bone  in  his  body  semed  to  be 
having  an  earthquake  ;  or  when  he  was  so  hungry  that  he  felt  he 
could  eat  his  very  fingers  if  they  were  only  sugared  a  little. 

But  he — the  growler — dosen't  think  it — the  baby — the  brightest, 
prettiest  thing,  especially  if  he  is  left  to  mind  it  for  an  hour  or  two  while 
its  own  dear  mamma  goes  down  town  to  do  a  little  shopping.  I  know 
of  one  young  bachelor  who  crammed  its  mouth  with  green  silk,  and 
not  finding  that  soporific,  held  its  head  downward,  and  finding  it  ob 
jected  to  that,  let  it  squall  out  its  dear  little  lungs  till  its  mother  rescued 
it.  Ah  !  he  forgot  that  he  was  once  a  little  old  precious,  and  cried 
like  the  rest  of  them;  yet  he  had  no  mouth  crammed  with  green  silk; 
he  hadn't  been  held  in  an  inverted  ratio;  he  remembered  only  that  he 
didn't  like  babies,  at  least  when  they  cried.  They  were  all  very  well 
in  pictures,  or  sculptured  as  Cupid,  or  smiling  in  their  mother's  arms, 
especially  if  she  was  young  and  pretty. 

Of  course,  it  is  not  so  pleasant  when  it  cries  for  two  or  three  hours 
with  no  let  up;  still  it  gives  a  very  good  idea  of  perpetual  motion 
and  it  is  well  to  utilize  everything. 

Yet,  what  is  home  without  a  baby  ?  with  no  little  feet  pattering 
.music  on  the  floor,  with  no  little  lips  lisping  pearl  drops,  that  gladdens 
every  mother  heart  ? 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


Many  love  them  best  when  they  are  in  long  clothes  and  just  be 
ginning  to  smile  ;  but  that's  the  time  the  crusty  bachelor,  old  or  young 
— the  bachelor  at  heart,  I  mean,  and  some  married  men  are  that — 
think  they  are  limbs  of  Satan,  and  says  so  too. 

"They  are  only  sent  to  worry  the  life  out  of  respectable  married  men, 
and  keep  sensible  single  ones  from  following  their  example. "  It's  all 
very  well  to  say  you  won't  walk  the  floor  at  night,  no  matter  how  it 
squalls,  and  even  stipulate  to  that  effect  before  matrimony;  but  when 
the  cash  runs  short,  and  you  are  blessed — that's  ironical — with  twins, 
what  wouldn't  you  do  to  stop  their  howling?  and  they  always  tune  up 
just  when  you're  sleepiest — at  least  the  General  tells  me  so;  and  gos 
sips  do  say,  that  as  he  brushes  by  the  Venetian  blinds  they  sometimes 
turn  and  disclose  a  ghost-like  figure  in  white,  with  naked  extremities, 
a  baby  in  each  arm,  singing  jovial  songs  in  a  stentorian  voice,  as  a 
counter-irritant,  you  know,  with  a  face  of  perfect  misery,  and  hair  in 
wild  disorder." 

The  young  mother  who  knows  better,  says 
she  don't  believe  it;  her  hubby  can  sleep 
through  the  stormiest  squall  her  two  can  make 
and  though  they  are  not  twins  they  are  nearly 
so.  Then  old  Crusty  wants  to  know  why  they 
weren't  born  without  colic,  any  how,  as  that 
can't  be  for  their  ultimate  beatification.  But 
this  is  a  question  the  mother  can't  answer,  at 
least  satisfactory  to  one  who  is  worried  nearly 
to  the  verge  of  madness  by  Mrs.  Jones'  cross 
baby  next  door.  The  excuse  of  an  apple  ate 
by  the  mother,  or  a  dish  of  cabbage,  or  pork 
and  beans,  causes  a  sarcastic  smile  on  the  face 
of  the  Doubter,  who  thinks  it  their  true  inward 
ness  that  must  have  vent,  or  the  machinery 

This  is  the 


SECRETS    TOLD.  93 

burst.  (Hush!  sometimes  the  fond  mother  thinks  it's  a  little  that  way 
herself,  but  she  wouldn't  for  the  world  say  so.) 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man,  and  he  was  a  newspaper  man, 
and  a  very  foolish  young  man,  for  he  wrote  and  published  a  fearful, 
dreadful,  terrible  slur  on  babies,  and  could  the  aforesaid  have  risen  in 
force  they  would  have  annihilated  him,  but  owing  to  their  weakness, 
their  mothers  took  up  their  cause  and  just  deluged  that  paper  office 
with  letters;  emphatic,  ironic,  choleric,  in  fact  of  every  angry  descrip 
tion,  till  the  editor  had  to  utter  a  protest;  but  worst  of  all  many  threat 
ened  to  stop  their  paper,  so  a  compromise  had  to  be  effected;  a  pretty 
poem  "  To  the  Baby,"  published,  or  something.  It  doesn't  do  to 
offend  the  women,  and  you  can't  do  it  more  effectually  than  by  dis 
paraging  the  baby. 

Of  course  we  can't  see  the  faults  of  our  own  five-year-older,  and 
think  it  is  that  hateful  Mrs.  Smith's  boy  that  will  always  begin  a  fight 
with  our  darling,  and  the  aforesaid  hateful  thinks  it's  just  the  same 
with  her  hopeful.  Well,  if  we  didn't  think  so,  who  would  care  for 
the  ugly  and  uninteresting;  but  that,  you  know,  isn't  their  fault;  they 
would  all  be  beautiful  and  smart  if  they  could.  ,  So  Heaven  has 
planted  this  beautiful,  beautiful  mother-love  in  the  hearts  of  women, 
so  that  they  can  endure  fatigue,  worry,  loss  of  sleep,  hunger,  cold,  al 
most  without  a  murmur,  for  baby's  sake;  and  when  it  sickens,  how 
the  mother's  heart  feels  every  pain  intensified,  and  when  it  dies  who 
can  comfort  ? 

Close  the  eyes  and  fold  the  little  hands;  put  away  the  clothes  and 
little  shoes  that  the  restless  little  feet  have  worn  red  and  shining.  Weep 
fond  mother,  weep,  or  your  heart  will  break.  God  gave  you  tears; 
it  is  not  wicked  to  shed  them  over  the  loss  of  this  precious  gift — your 
loved  little  baby.  It  is  so  hard,  so  hard  to  part  with  it.  The  beauty, 
the  joy,  the  brightness  seems  gone  out  of  your  life,  now  the  lisping 
tongue  is  silent.  You  sit  and  moan,  and  moan  and  moan,  till  the 


94  SECRETS    TOLD. 

other  children  weep  to  hear  you.  How  cold  and  white  your  little 
darling  is.  You  never  took  his  hand  before  that  he  did  not  reward 
you  with  a  smile,  a  kiss,  or  a  pretty  word.  But  now,  he  does 
not  notice  you.  O,  God  !  if  it  should  be  thus  in  the  other 
world;  if  he  should  not  recognize  his  mother  who  so  loved  him, 
so  suffered  for  him  ;  if  he  should  not  run  to  meet  her — 
then  were  Heaven  a  place  of  torment,  instead  of  eternal  bliss;  but 
God  is  too  good  to  blast  a  mother's  hopes.  You  will  meet  your 
baby  there,  poor  mother,  and  it  will  know  you  and  love  you 
far  better  than  it  did  on  earth.  It  has  only  gone  on  a  journey  to  a 
more  beautiful  country,  where  there  is  no  pain;  it  will  wait  for  you, 
and  when  you  cross  the  dark  river,  it  will  not  be  a  strange  land  your 
feet  will  touch,  for  baby  will  be  there  to  welcome  you. 


LIBERTY. 


There  is  no  such  thing  as  liberty  for  man,  woman,  or  child.  As  he 
is  born,  so  is  his  destiny  thrust  upon  him.  It  is  all  sophistry  to  say  a 
man  can  carve  out  his  own  destiny;  a  man  can  do  this,  and  a  man 
can  do  that,  but  it  begins  and  ends  with  saying  a  man  can  do.  Does 
any  one  ever  say  a  woman  can  carve  out  her  own  destiny? 

If  a  woman  is  a  slave — and  the  proof  sh  ill  yet  be  shown  that  she  is 
still  in  the  worst  of  bondage — a  man  is  also,  but  differently,  and  more 
to  his  own  satisfaction. 

Who  ever  heard  of  a  great  man  arising  out  of  the  scum  of  St.  Giles? 
We  know  that  this  poet's  father  was  a  shoemaker,  or  small  tradesman; 


SECRETS   TOLD.  95 

that  that  great-divine  came,  perhaps,  from  a  tailor  shop,  and  that  this 
great  statesman,  and  that  successful  general  were  of  common-place,  but 
respectable  parents. 

But  who  ever  heard  of  the  son  of  a  sot — not  a  man  who  takes  even 
half  a  dozen  drinks  a  day,  but  a  drunkard — who  has  lost  all  sense  of 
moral  obligation  while  his  child  is  still  in  his  adolescence,  or  the 
son  of  a  thief,  who  from  earliest  childhood  has  been  taught  the  height 
of  ambition  was  to  be  able  to  crack  a  crib  successfully  without  detec 
tion?  who  ever  heard  of  such  men's  sons  becoming  great  or  good 
or  even  respectable?  Yet  were  they  given  the  dhoice  of  St.  James  or 
St.  Giles?  or  whether  their  fathers  should  be  princes  or  paupers? 

We  will  assume  that  the  sot's  son  has  perfect  liberty,  but  what  is  it 
to  him  but  an  empty  sound?  With  no  education  to  raise  his  thoughts 
above  the  animal  instincts  of  food  and  warmth;  with  no  experience  to 
show  him,  that  outside  those  disgusting  purlieus  are  brave,  good  men, 
beautiful,  loving  women,  noble  deeds,  great  achievements,  a  world  so 
different  from  his  own,  that  could  he  understand  it,  'twould  appear 
like  a  bright  fairy  tale.  But  he  is  shut  out  from  all  this,  almost  as 
effectually  as  if  he  were  confined  behind  the  bars  of  a  prison  cell. 
Lack  of  intelligence,  lack  of  appreciation,  lack  of  money — these  are 
his  jailors. 

And  these  same  jailors  jealously  guard  the  prison  homes  of  millions 
more  besides  the  sons  of  sots  and  thieves.  We  look  in  vain  for  a 
remedy. 

"Education,  education,  education!"  is  the  cry,  but  we  must  go  with 
the  strong  arms  of  giants,  and  seize  these  children  bodily;  for  they 
will  not  seek  voluntarily  that  of  which  they  know  nothing;  and  the 
weak  parents — weak  with  ignorance,  or  poverty,  or  rum,  say: 

"  Look  at  us;  we  didn't  never  have  any  teachin';  it  didn't  harm  us." 

15%^ 


96  SECRETS    TOLD. 

So  each  degraded  father  and  mother  leaves  duplicates  and  triplicates 
of  themselves  to  follow  in  their  miserable  footsteps,  and  yet  we  talk  of 
liberty! 

Even  custom,  though  it  often  goes  against  our  common  sense,  is 
strong  enough  to  make  us  do  ridiculous  things,  though  we  profess  to 
despise  both  fashion  and  custom;  yet  it  restrains  our  free  instincts  as 
chains  of  iron  would  the  free  use  of  our  limbs. 

Is  there  one  of  us  independent  enough  to  do  just  as  he  pleases? 
And  if  so,  wnat  does  he  become  ?  A  hoodlum,  pure  and  simple. 

The  nearest  approAh  to  liberty  is  when  the  boy  of  six  or  seven 
sneaks  off  from  school  and  plays  the  truant;  then  his  evil  passions  are 
dormant,  and  his  only  thoughts  are  for  enjoyment;  true,  he  runs  the 
risk  of  being  drowned,  run  over,  a  bloody  nose  or  a  black  eye,  and 
the  awful  fear  of  the  paternal  chastisement,  when  the  inevitable  night 
comes,  looms  up  ominously,  like  a  dark  cloud  momentarily  obscuring 
his  pleasure;  but  he  finally  makes  up  his  mind  to  bear  it  bravely,  and 
then  puts  all  disagreeable  thoughts  from  his  mind;  and  this  is  the 
nearest  we  come  to  liberty! 

One  man,  or  rather  thousands,  are  the  slaves  of  Pedro,  casino,  whist, 
faro,  etc.;  another  of  tobacco,  or  opium;  others,  money-getting;  others 
wine;,  others  yet,  of  ambition.  Again  we  ask,  "What .remedy?"  The 
answer  is  an  echoed  and  re-echoed  "what  ?" 

A  man  is  born  a  slave,  and  will  die  a  slave,  and  Bob  Ingersoll  won't 
save  him.  HOP  O'-MY-THUMB. 

What  Katie  thinks. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  97 


GRIEVANCES. 


Is  a  woman  happy  without  a  grievance  ?  You  gentlemen  will  say 
no;  and  I  almost  think  you  are  right.  The  dull  monotony  of  a 
woman's  life  must  be  broken  by  something;  if  it  be  not  a  grievance,  it 
must  be  excitement,  and  one  can  imagine  the  great  excitement  of 
minding  children,  mending  clothes,  with  an  occasional  book  to  read; 
sometimes  washing  dishes  and  cooking  besides;  not  even  the  excite 
ment  of  marketing  is  allowed  most  women,  where  the  stalls  of  bright 
vegetables  and  flowers,  and  clean  looking  meat  stretch  for  miles,  and 
one  can  have  the  excitement  of  meeting  most  of  their  acquaintances, 
without  the  trouble  of  visiting,  and  indulging  in  the  current  gossip 
getting  it  fresh  every  morning. 

Without  something  to  complain  of  a  woman  would  be  too  happy 
for  this  world;  she  would  be  ready  to  die,  and  willing,  too,  most  like. 
How  could  she  exercise  the  spice  of  original  sin  inherited  from  Mother 
Eve  ?  If  she  couldn't  fret  and  scold  a  wee  little  bit,  her  husband 
would  be  most  unhappy  finding  he  had  married  a  saint  when  he  sup 
posed  he  had  married  a  woman.  His  own  little  deficiencies  would 
become  so  great  by  comparison,  that  he  would  sigh  for  the  shrill  voice 
and  the  occasional  biscuit  thrown  at  his  head,  to  be  able  to  draw  up  a 
better  balance  sheet. 

If  the  husband  is  an  angel  then  again  there  is  trouble  in  the  camp, 
for  he  doesn't  afford  the  least  opportunity  for  the  excitement  of  a 
quarrel;  so  the  children  stand  in  his  stead,  and  are  the  worst  in  the 
world. 

"  He's  the  worst  boy!     I  can't  do  anything  with  him;  other  children 


98  SECRETS   TOLD. 

'11  mind,  but  he — "  I  heard  a  woman  say,  and  he  was  her  grievance, 
and  perhaps  prevented  her  other  half  from  getting  an  undue  amount  of 
Caudle  lectures. 

If  it  wasn't  for  the  servant-girl  question,  some  women's  lives  would 
stagnate,  especially  during  the  fashionable  morning  calls.  Oh,  the 
grief  they  cause  them  with  their  waste,  their  tea  parties,  and  their  lazi 
ness!  And,  oh,  the  good  it  doss  them  to  talk  about  it. 

Some  women  are  at  their  happiest  when  they  are  deepest  in  trouble. 
When  things  run  smoothly  and  they  are  not  even  in  debt,  they  see 
nothing  to  live  for,  and  wonder  why  they  were  born. 

Why  I  know  a  lady  who  is  so  well  off  that  she  has  everything  she 
wishes  for;  and  yet  she  is  not  happy,  but  makes  a  grievance  of  her 
neighbors;  and  if  Mr.  Jones  does  not  treat  his  horse  or  his  wife  just 
as  he  ought  to,  why  her  brow  is  corrugated,  and  she  looks  as  if  she 
had  the  weight  of  the  world  on  her  shoulders. 

Oh!  happy  the  woman  who  has  a  dozen  children,  not  much  money, 
and  no  time  to  think  her  life  monotonous,  and  needs  no  grievance  as 
an  outlet  for  her  superfluity  of  feeiing. 

Oh !  happy  the  woman  who  brings  to  her  husband  a  mother-in-law, 
and  lots  of  relations-in-Iaw  so  that  his  very  occasional  visits  to  the 
corner  do  not  make  her  so  lonely  that  she  wishes  herself  dead,  and 
she  finds  that  life  is  scill  endurable  if  her  husband  do33  play  "Pedro" 
for  the  drinks,  and  sometimes  loses  too  many  games  for  his  equi 
librium. 

Why,  some  women  make  a  grievance  of  their  fine  furniture,  and 
moan  if  the  dust  blows  in  too  thickly,  or  run  to  tears  if  the  head  of 
the  house  accidentally  mistakes  the  carpet  for  the  cuspador!  I've 
known  them,  so  have  you,  and  who  act  as  if  sitting  on  pins  if  a  friend 
brings  in  a  young  hopeful  of  an  enquiring  mind,  who  wishes  to  look 
at  the  books,  or  at  the  bric-a-brac  on  the  what-not  or  grown-up  peo 
ple's  toy  box  that  stands  in  the  corner. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  99 

Some  grieve  because  they  are  so  fat  that  their  pull-back  does  not 
set  them  off  to  the  best  advantage,  and  pinch  and  squeeze,  and  try  the 
Banting  system,  to  reduce  their  avoirdupoise.  Some  make  a  grievance 
of  their  very  lack  of  this  same  carbon,  and  the  object  of  their  life  is  to 
drink  ale  and  porter  and  eat  rare  beef  to  accomplish  the  wished-for 
augmentation. 

Some  sigh  because  their  locks  are  dark,  when  fashion  calls  for 
blonde ;  some  because  their  clothes  are  not  just  in  the  style ;  but,  oh  ! 
the  grievance  of  all  grievances,  is  the  husband!  His  every  fault  is  can 
vassed,  even  to  the  slightest,  and  some  women  make  confidants  of 
every  one  who  will  lend  a  pitying  ear.  He  neglects  his  home — he 
drinks;  he  looks  too  often  at  that  brazen  Miss  Smith;  he  don't  dress 
her  fine  enough,  but  wastes  his  money  on  filihy  tobacco;  he — he — he. 
But  if  she  is  discreet  and  keeps  his  failings  to  herself,  she  thinks, 
"What  shall  I  scold  him  about  when  he  comes  home  ?"  Not  exactly 
in  these  words,  but  rather — 

'  'On  what  subject  do  we  need  reform  ?"  And  if  the  husband  is 
sensible  he'll  let  her  reform  him  to  her  heart's  content;  it  might  pre 
vent  her  having  fever  by  allowing  vent  to  her  pent-up  feelings.  Don't 
be  silly  and  get  mad.  Remember,  gentlemen,  you've  had  a  dozen  op 
portunities  during  the  day  of  d — ,  or  rather  blanking  somebody;  your 
clerk,  or  your  porter,  or  the  stocks,  while  your  poor  wife  has  had,  per 
haps,  no  one  on  whom  she  had  a  legitimate  right  to  exercise  her  vocal 
organ.  How  would  you  like  to  pass  a  whole  day  without  being  al 
lowed  to  utter  strong  language?  It  would  almost  kill  some  gentlemen 
I  know.  Sympathize,  therefore,  with  your  loving  wives,  and  sacrifice 
yourselves  for  a  few  moments  for  their  peace  of  mind. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  you  are  right;  I'll  reform."  With  these  sweet 
words  in  her  ear,  she'll  sleep  peacefully,  thinking  she  has  not  lived  in 
vain. 


100 


SECRETS   TOLD. 


Happy  the  woman  who  has  an  in 
growing  nail,  or  the  neuralgia,  or  a 
prize  puzzle  to  decipher;  some  real 
grievance,  so  that  the  innocent  might 
not  suffer;  and  happy  the  woman  who 
is  not  so  perfect,  and  whose  husband  is 
not  such  an  angel  but  that  they  can  get 
up  a  good  old-fashioned  quarrel  once 
in  a  while,  so  that  healthy  excitement 

This  is  the  Quarrel.  may  not  fade  out   of  their  lives,    and 

they  die  all  too  soon  out  of  ennui,  leaving  their  little  ones  a  sad  mon 
ument  of  the  desolation  caused  by  two  persons  not  having  a  single 
grievance. 

What  Lucy  don't  think. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


WOMAN-NO.  2. 


I  never  saw  a  woman  yet  who  did  not  regret  being  born  a  woman; 
I  never  saw  a  woman  yet  who  did  not  wish  she  were  a  man;  I  never 
saw  a  woman  yet  who  did  not  feel  that  the  conventionalities  that  en 
vironed  her  were  too  circumscribed  for  the  full  development  of  her 
heart  and  brain;  I  never  saw  a  woman  but  would  make  a  better  man 
than  half  the  so-called  creatures  that  wear  the  bifurcated.  And  yet  I 
am  a  woman;  but  my  consent  was  never  asked  whether  I  should  be  a 
ruler,  or  be  ruled;  my  consent  was  never  asked  whether  the  limited 
(in  some  respects  unlimited)  duties  of  a  house  would  satisfy  all  the 
cravings  of  my  intellect,  as  well  as  heart;  I  was  never  given  the  choice 
of  being  a  woman,  and  have  the  easy  and  delicious  task  of  bearing 


SECRETS   TOLD.  f  101 

and  rearing  a  large  family,  or  being  a  mighty  man,  and  with  the 
strength  demanding,  intellect  developing  occupation  of  selling  hose 
and  chemises  to  ladies;  I  was  never  consulted  whether  I  should  be  a 
President  or  be  a  pot-washer,  there  being  no  act  of  mine  that  I  was 
born  this  poor,  despicable,  unloved  thing — a  woman — and  no  act  of 
his  that  Nature  placed  him  on  the  unlimited  throne  of  manhood; 
then  what  calls  for  the  extra  consideration,  respect  and  deference  paid 
him  even  from  his  birth?  They  say  that  in  this  country  women  are 
so  free,  women  are  so  carefully  tended,  women  are  so  adored  (?);  that 
in  rough  Germany  they  are  harnessed  to  carts  and  to  the  plow;  that 
they  lose  all  the  sweet  bloom  of  womanhood,  etc. ,  etc.  I  myself 
have  seen,  in  the  quaint  city  of  Quebec,  a  woman  and  a  dog  har 
nessed  together,  drawing  a  cart.  Here,  you  see,  they  do  more  than 
a  man.  He  guides  the  plow,  he  drives  the  horse  or  dog,  he  is  master, 
but  never  equal;  that  would  be  degrading.  True,  I  don't  want  wo 
men  to  pitch  brick  and  carry  the  hod,  as  the  women  in  Antwerp;  yet 
even  to  do  this,  even  to  draw  the  plow,  or  pull  the  cart,  there  are 
some  advantages;  God's  glorious  sky,  His  waving  grain,  His  life-giv 
ing  perfumed  air  are  familiar  things,  ever  surrounding  her,  not  coveted 
and  yearned  for  in  vain,  as  the  pale-faced  sewing  woman,  or  the  poor 
woman  of  many  children,  alas  !  knows  how.  They,  too,  have  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  they  earn  their  bread.  We  know  there 
are  happy  women,  contented  women,  who  are  satisfied  with  just  what 
they  are  and  just  what  they  have.  They  need  no  emancipation.  I 
am  writing  in  the  cause  of  the  oppressed,  the  ground  down,  the  bitterly 
unhappy.  Yet  for  them  there  is  only  partial  alleviation,  never  perfect 
while  man  remains  man,  and  woman  woman,  and  even  the  theory  of 
"evolution"  does  not  teach  that  in  the  blessed  progress  of  humans 
and  things,  the  sexes  will  be  changed. 

We  know  that  women  hate  each  other — with  exceptions,  of  course — 
we  know  that  it  is  called  naughty,  unwomanly,  etc.,   but  we  know  that 


102  -4  SECRETS   TOLD. 

it  is  natural;  we  know  our  little  peculiarities  born  of  being  a  woman; 
we  know  the  vapid,  useless,  tiresome  lives  so  many  lead,  where  the 
father  or  husband  has  a  liltle  more  than  is  necessary  to  live  from  hand 
to  mouth.  We  know  the  hopeless,  sunless  work  and  worry  of  those 
who  have  less. 

When  men  compare  this  country  with  European  nations,  they  for 
get  the  parks  and  gardens,  where  many  of  the  women  that  otherwise 
would  scarcely  see  the  sunlight,  the  trees  and  flowers,  take  their  chil 
dren,  their  lunch  and  sewing,  and  spend  many  happy,  contented  days. 

They  forget  the  innumerable  petty  shop-keepers,  where  the  wife  is 
half  the  firm,  and  does  business  like  a  man.  Here,  if  a  woman  tries 
to  make  money  in  stocks,  taking  no  more  illegetimite  means  than  a 
man  does,  oh,  she's  a  mud-hen!  Such  a  term!  Yet  they  sicken  of 
women  book-peddlers,  and  won't  buy  patent  button-fasteners;  so  if 
the  woman  happens  to  be  a  widow,  or  without  support,  and  is  not  a 
servant  or  shop-woman — and  those  places  are  overrun,  for  there  must 
be  some  to  buy  and  some  to  work  for — then  how  does  a  man  expect 
her  to  earn  her  bread,  and  that,  perhaps,  of  her  dependent  children  ? 
When  she  first  tried  to  be  a  type-setter,  how  she  was  sneered  at  and 
reviled.  And  even  now  they  have  not  ceased  to  scandalize  the  female 
treasury  clerks,  although,  after  all  these  years  of  trial,  not  one  has 
been  found  dishonest.  Men  say,  sneeringly,  they  haven't  the  cour 
age  (?).  It  is  a  pity,  so  their  mothers  think,  that  they  have,  for  any 
one  can  be  a  villian;  the  lowest  scuff  and  scum  can  be  a  thief.  It  is 
the  courageous  man  who  is  honest,  though  sorely  tempted  by  want. 

The  men  sneer  at  each  advance  in  the  progress  of  women's  labor, 
fearing  their  own  stability.  Look  at  the  school  question — women  paid 
less  for  the  same  work.  Such  rank  injustice,  to  make  discrimination 
in  the  sex  of  brains 

Men  forget  that  in  France  women  always  rule,  first  by  their  youth 
and  beauty,  then  by  their  intellect,  last  by  their  piety.  They  forget 


SECRETS   TOLD.  103 

when  they  boast  of  glorious  America,  the  paradise  of  women,  that  it  is 
a  paradise  only  for  the  tender  greenlings.  Society  is  for  the  girls  in 
h  eir  teens,  where  a  woman  over  thirty  is  voted  a  bore;  they  don't 
want  "  old  folks,"  so  precocious  is  their  hot-house  growth.  How  differ 
ent  in  Europe;  every  lady  who  has  traveled — being  past  the  bread 
and  butter  age — will  tell.  Alack  and  alas!  we  in  America  need  much 
reconstruction.  We  ask  for  a  more  enlarged  life  for  women,  for  a 
broader  field  of  occupation;  give  them  every  little  concession  passible 
to  add  to  their  happiness;  their  homes  should  be  places  to  help  equa  * 
the  freedom  of  enjoyment  the  men  posess  as  a  divine  (?)  right. 

We  only  ask  that  they  shall  not  be  so  stinted  in  the  pay  for  their 
work,  either  for  o  hers  or  their  husbands,  that  they  shall  constantly 
feel  as  if  they  were  living  on  sufferance  and  their  necessary  clothing  a 
divine  favor  for  which  they  cou'.d  not  enough  thank  God — and  their 
husbands ! 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 

What  Madeline  believes. 


UTILIZING  THE  RICH 


I  was  sitting  in  my  office  meditating  on  the  mutability  of  human 
affairs — we  always  meditate  on  this  subject  when  we  have  more  time 
than  money — when  a  quick,  decided  little  step  approached  the  door, 
and  a  lively  little  drum  beat,  played  by  the  back  of  two  ringers,  sounded 
on  the  glass  pane  ;  it  was  Tom's  wife,  I  knew,  so  I  cried  : 

"Come  in  !"  in  the  sweetest  voice  I  could  command,  and  when  she 
appeared,  I  greeted  her  with  a  great  deal  of  enthusiasm — for  I  had 
not  seen  her  for  some  time — shaking  her  hands  and  seating  her  in  my 


104  SECRETS    TOLD. 

big  chair;  then,  for  the  first  time,  I  noticed  she  had  no   smile  upon 
her  face. 

"Oh!  Uncle  John,  I've  got  the  blues!"  she  cried,  throwing  back 
her  head  and  dropping  the  seal  skin  cap  upon  the  floor. 

"You?" 
,  "  Yes,  but  thank  goodness  not  for  myself  this  time." 

"Relieve  your  mind,  my  dear,  and  tell  me  all  about  it,"  I  said, 
patting  her  hands  in  a  fatherly  way. 

"Well,  you  see,  Mrs.  Jones — I  call  her  Mrs.  Jones,  Uncle  John,  so 
that  you  shall  not  know  who  I  mean — well,  she  is  going  to  have 
another  baby!"  I  wondered  in  my  mind  why  that  should  give  her  the 
blues  but  said  nothing. 

"You  see  she  has  nine  children  already,  and  it  takes  all  her  time  to 
attend  to  their  wants,  and  darn  her  husband's  stockings — oh,  he  does 
wear  such  big  holes  in  them,  she  showed  me — that  she  has  none  for 
herself;  can't  visit  or  attend  the  matinees,  and  I  should  so  like  to  have 
her  go  with  me,  for  she  is  very  lively,  and  the  soul  of  wit,  whatever 
that  may  be." 

"Still,  my  dear,  I  can't  see  why  this  should  give  you  the  blues,"  I 
ventured  to  remark. 

u  Don't  you  see  she  is  fulfilling  the  Divine  command,  and  yet 
Providence  don't  seem  to  be  helping  her  out  the  least  bit,  any  more — 
no,  not  as  much — than  as  if  she  was  breaking  it;  and  she  said  to  me; 
"If  Heaven  will  keep  sending  the  little  ones — oh,  you  needn't  laugh, 
Uncle  John,  for  she  said  no  matter  how  much  people  laughed  and 
sneered  at  the  idea,  especially  those  who  had  none,  that  Heaven,  and 
nobody  but  Heaven,  sent  them.  Witness  the  fact  that  they  who  are 
childless,  might  beg  in  vain  till  they  were  gray,  for  one  little  likeness 
of  themselves,  while  somebody  else,  who  would  be  contented  with 
half-a-dozen,  is  presented  with  nine  or  ten." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  105 

"My  dear,  you  have  wandered  from  the  point,"  I  said.  "You 
spoke  of  Heaven  sending  the  little  ones." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  She  said  she  thought  that  Heaven  might  send  plenty  of 
means  to  take  good  care  of  them.  'There's  Mr.  Robinson,'  she  con 
tinued,  '  without  chick  or  child,  and  so  wealthy  that  he  don't  know 
what  to  do  with  his  money.  Why,  his  stable,  even,  is  finer  than  our 
house ;  and  when  my  Jack  wants  a  coat,  and  Angeline  a  petticoat,  and 
Mary  Walker  Beatrice  a  chimeloon,  and  Grant  Lee — you  see,  I'm 
neutral  in  politics — a  pair  of  warm  stockings,  I'm  apt  to  think  Heaven 
hasn't  distributed  the  goods  of  this  world  just  right.'  " 

I  wished  to  ask  her  what  that  "  loon"  something  was,  but  was  afraid 
to. 

"  'Oh,  I  don't  mind  having  nine  children,'  she  continued,  'for  the 
love  comes  with  them,  and  I  wouldn't  lose  one  for  all  Mr.  Robinson's 
wealth  ;  but  I  don't  like  to  lose  all  my  sleep  at  night  by  having  four  in 
the  bed,  because  they  will  sleep  with  their  mamma  and  papa.  Now,  if 
I  even  had  a  mother-in-law  with  me,  she  would  take  charge  of  a  few, 
for  she  would  not  allow  '  my  son's'  children  to  be  neglected,  and  see 
ing  that  I  had  but  two  knees  and  two  arms,  and  could  accommodate 
but  three  at  the  most,  comfortably,  would  take  pity  on  me  ;  but  having 
only  one  girl  to  do  all  the  work  and  washing,  when  night  comes  she  is 
almost  as  worn  out  and  tired  as  myself;  but  then,  she  can  have  her 
night's  sleep,'  she  added,  with  a  sigh,  '  and  that  is  what  I  miss.' " 

I  no  longer  wondered  that  Tom's  wife  had  the  blues;  I  was  begin 
ning  to  feel  that  color  myself,  but  I  put  on  a  cheerful  countenance  and 
said: 

"  Well,  what  did  she  suggest  as  a  remedy  ?" 

"  Rather  a  novel  one;  to  tax  all  the  rich  people  who  had  no  chil 
dren,  and  the  proceeds  to  be  distributed  equally  per  capita — is  that 


106  SECRETS   TOLD. 

right,  Uncle  John? — among  those  who  had  over  three,  whether  rich  or 
poor,  so  that  accepting  it  should  not  be  receiving  charity.  This  would 
relieve  a  great  deal  of  suffering  and  save  many  lives,  for  sometimes 
those  apparently  well-to-do,  have  not  enough  money  at  times  to  buy 
needed  medicines  and  attendance  for  their  sick  little  ones,  or  comforts 
enough  for  their  well.  But  there,  we  have  no  hand  in  making  the 
laws  if  we  do  have  all  the  babies.  She's  my  friend,  Uncle  John,  and 
I  can't  bear  to  think  of  the  additional  trouble  she'll  soon  have  on  her 
hands;  those  two  babies  crying  at  once,  for  her  youngest  can't  walk  or 
talk,  constantly  with  one  in  her  arms,  and  sometimes  the  two.  Oh,  I 
can  see  her  now  in  imagination.  Then  sitting  up  in  bed  shivering 
rocking  the  baby,  so  it  shan't  disturb  the  other,  and  that  the  rest  of 
them — and  'them'  her  dear  husband,'so  she  prefers  to  suffer  alone;  oh, 
she's  done  it  before;  I  know  her." 

I  suggest  a  good  nurse. 

"That's  it!  You  see  they  can't  afford  one;  she  doesn't  wish  to  de 
prive  her  husband  of  all  his  little  enjoyments,  his  Pedro,  cigars,  etc., 
not  wanting  him  to  wish  he  was  a  bachelor  again;  so,  though  he 
spends  more  than  enough  to  keep  a  good  nurse  or  even  his  mother- 
in-law,  still  she  keeps  a  cheerful  face,  and  grows  old  and  broken  down 
silently.  Now  you  see  if  the  rich  were  taxed,  that  would  be  entirely 
for  the  benefit  of  the  mother  and  children,  so  that  she  need  not  inter 
fere  with  his  little  pleasures,  and  still  have  some  of  her  own.  Uncle 
John,  you're  a  man  and  a  part  of  the  government;  now  can't  you 
petition  Congress,  or  whoever  in  Washington  does  such  things,  to  pass 
such  a  law?  That's  what  I  came  to  see  you  about  this  morning. 
You're  so  talented  and  eloquent,  that  it  would  be  no  trouble  at  all  to 
you." 

I  blushed  up  to  my  eyes.  I  felt  it,  to  have  a  young  and  pretty 
woman  thus  compliment  me. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  107 

"You  see,  Uncle  John,  they  say,  at  least  I  heard  a  young  man  say 
once,  speaking  of  his  father  : 

"  'Well,  what  did  he  bring  me  into  the  world  for  ?  I  didn't  ask  him 
to.'  He  forgot  that  his  father  didn't  ask  his  paternal  to  do  that  office, 
or  his,  his,  and  so  on  till  you  come  to  Adam;  so  that  he  should  blame 
God,  which  he  would  not  dare  to  do.  Then  suppose  there  were  no 
more  children  born,  as  so  many  growlers  and  children-haters  wish, 
where  would  this  world  be  in  fifty  years,  or  rather,  what  would  it  be  ? 
The  cities  silent  and  almost  uninhabited,  the  plough  rusting  in  the 
furrow,  the  grass  growing  in  the  canals  and  corn  fields,  the  humming 
machinery  broken  and  decayed,  the  printing  press  silent  and  unused, 
the  telegraph  poles  cut  up  for  fire  wood,  no  smile  upon  a  human  face, 
each  one  fearing  in  horror  to  be  the  'Last  Man.'  'Tis  easy  enough  to 
advance  in  years  with  our  children  growing  up  around  us,  keeping  the 
busy  wheels  of  commerce,  education  and  the  fine  arts  ever  active,  still 
progressive,  but  to  wait  till  death  comes,  without  a  child's  voice  or 
smile  to  gladden  us,  to  look  only  into  faces  old  with  sorrow  and  care; 
to  see  everything  decaying  and  dying  around  us,  must  be  terrible  in 
deed,  so  why  do  those  smart  one,  some  of  them  not  out  of  their  teens, 
look  upon  babies  as  nuisances,  and  think  it  would  be  best  for  the 
world  if  no  more  we  born,  when  it  would  be  death,  hideous  death  for 
this  glorious  beautiful  paradise  we  inhabit.  Only,  things  ought  to  be 
distributed  a  liitle  more  evenly." 

I  was  silent;  Her  eloquence  subdued  me.  But  as  she  seemed  wait 
ing  for  me  to  speak,  I  at  last  suggested  sending  them  to  the  Found 
ling  Asylum;  but  she  burst  out  crying. 

"Oh,  Uncle  John,  I  did  not  expect  that  of  you.  1  may  be  a  mother 
myself  some  day,  and — and — "  but  her  sobs  choked  her  utterance. 
Now,  here  was  a  dilemma!  I  did  not  know  how  to  comfort  her,  not 
having  had  any  experience  in  the  subject;  and  as  her  sobs  became 
louder  and  louder,  I  no  longer  wondered  how  they  could  rule  their 


108 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


husbands,  for  I  would  have  done  anything  to  have  stopped  the  heart 
rending  sound. 

"Maggie!"  I  cried,  "dear  Maggie.  I'll 
do  it.  I'll  get  up  a  petition  a  mile  long, 
signed  with  a  hundred  thousand  names,  and 
send  it  to  Washington!"  Her  sobs  stopped; 
a  smile  broke  over  her  countenance,  and 
throwing  her  arms  around  me,  she  cried: 

"Thou  woman's  friend!  Bless  you,  bless 
you !" 

This  is  the  Petition.  And  that  is  the  reason  I  carry  this  parch 

ment  and  know  every  married  man  and  woman  in  town. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 
This  is  Maggie's  opinion. 


THE  MAN  WHO  STAYS  AT  HOME  TOO  MUCH. 

Tell  it  not  in  Gath;  speak  it  not  in — whatever  the  quotation  may 
be — that  I've  been  eating  onions!  But  this  is  my  beloved  husband's 
day  out,  so  he'll  never  know  it.  You  see,  my  other  half  is  an  author, 
poet,  dramatist,  etc.;  but  his  principal  business  is  writing  for  a  news 
paper,  and  he  has  just  finished  his  weekly  masterpiece,  blacked  his 
shoes,  put  on  a  clean  shirt,  left  a  thousand  and  one  directions  as  to 
what  we  shall  all  do  during  his  absence,  kissed  his  son  and  heir, 
shook  his  hand  to  baby,  just  touched  my  lips  as  gently  as  a  Summer's 
breeze,  said  "ta,  ta,"  to  the  girls,  and  jumped  into  the  car,  or,  rather, 
upon  it,  for  he  stands  on  the  platform  as  long  as  the  house  is  in  sight. 

Well,  I've  been  eating  onions;  the  fact  is,  we've  all  been  eating 
them,  except  the  baby,  for  the  girls  say  they  don't  expect  their  beaux 


SECRETS    TOLD.  109 

to-night,  as  it  is  Saturday,  and  they  spend  nearly  all  Sunday  with  them, 
so  they'll  just  have  a  feast — Spanish,  large  and  raw  at  that. 

Thus  you  see  the  effect  of  liberty.  My  beloved  will  return  at  six 
P.  M.,  by  the  clock.  Let  me  see,  it  will  be  a  little  past  by  ours,  as  it 
is  always  fast.  Well,  he  will  return  with  a  renewed  lease  of  life  for 
another  week;  that  is  to  say,  he  will  go  to  the  office,  get  his  little 
stipend,  then,  after  chatting  a  few  moments  with  the  gentlemanly  book 
keeper,  he  will  make  straight  for  a  barber  shop,  have  his  beautiful, 
poetic  long  hair — my  pride — clipped  to  the  dimensions  of  ordinary 
mortals,  and  his  week's  beard,  which  made  him  look  so  dirty  and 
cross,  removed  to  the  roots;  have  his  moustache  curled  a  la  Napoleon, 
and  a  little  delicate  perfumery  sprayed  over  his  distinguished  coun 
tenance;  then,  with  a  little  brushing  up,  he  will  come  from  that  shop  a 
renewed  man.  From  there  he  goes — he  has  often  given  me  his  pro 
gramme  minutely — not  to  the  Fountain,  but  to  the  place  near  it — and 
plays  his  weekly  three  games  of  Pedro — not  for  the  drinks,  as  he  plays 
with  a  trio  of  geniuses  like  himself,  who  can  hardly  afford  it,  though 
they  do  take  it  in  turns  each  week,  to  do  the  generous  and  pay  for  one 
round  of  cigars.  Then  he  goes  to  the  most  fashionable  tailor,  in 
quires  the  price  of  their  handsomest  suit;  how  long  it  would  take  to 
make  him  a  duplicate — there  is  nothing  like  putting  on  a  little  style, 
he  tells  me — buys  a  box  of  paper  collars  and — but  I  wont  tire  out  in 
dulgent  patience  with  too  much  minuteness;  suffice  it  to  say  he  ends 
at  the  market,  where  he  always  purchases  an  extra  fine  dinner  for 
Sunday,  for  my  poet  loves  his  stomach  like  a  common  man. 

And  I,  in  the  mean  time  ?  Well,  I  go  in  my  old  rags  and  drop  my 
back  hair;  the  girls  take  off  their  'attire.'  'Sh  !  their  bustles,  and  in 
dulge  in  onions;  the  son  and  heir  eats  molasses  with  his  fingers  and 
makes  sand  pies.  The  baby  is  allowed  the  luxury  of  a  little  bawl — 
she's  a  girl,  it  won't  hurt  her — and  we're  all  as  happy  as  kings. 

Now,  don't  think  we  are  unappreciative  of  the  great  mind   that 


110  SECRETS   TOLD. 

Heaven  has  kindly  granted  to  be  our  constant  companion,  and  the 
father  of  our  dear  girls,  et  at;  it's  the  "constant,"  there's  the  rub. 
There  is  a  neighbor  of  mine  whose  husband  is  Falstaffian  and  good 
natured,  who  would  almost  give  her  little  finger  for  him  to  have  a 
moiety  of  the  stav-at-home  qualities  of  my  beloved,  but  he  runs  the 
"primaries"  at  the  corner  groceries.  "  That's  the  place  to  fetch  'em/' 
he  tells  her,  and  he  is  weighty  at  city  elections;  can  influence  just 
nineteen  and  a  half  votes — the  half  is  the  man  who  stood  on  the 
fence.  His  candidates  are  not  always  successful,  but  that's  not  his 
fault.  After  a  hurried  breakfast,  to  eat  which  she  his  sent  over  half  the 
neighborhood  to  all  the  "primaries,"  she  sees  him  no  more  till  what 
ever  hour  of  the  night  or  morning  his  important  political  duties  re 
lease  him.  She  goes  to  sleep  whh  her  head  on  the  table  waiting  for 
him  ;  she  stands  at  the  window  in  her  nightgown,  like  a  ghos'  ;  she 
naps  on  the  hard  sofa  till  she  gets  a  crick  in  the  neck ;  she  reads  over 
the  scraps  of  paper  the  bread  comes  in  (he  doesn't  subscribe  for  a  paper, 
he  reads  it  all  at  the  "primaries");  she  does  everyihing  to  pass  the 
weary  time  away,  and  yet  she  is  not  happy.  Of  course,  it's  one  thing 
to  be  too  much  one  -way,  and  K'S  pretty  much  the  same  to  be  too 
much  the  other  way.  But,  to  re'.urn  to  our  mutton — or,  rather,  beef — 
for  that's  what  our  beloved  generally  buys,  a  great  big  roast,  for  that's 
the  cheapest,  and  really  good,  and  makes  excellent  hash,  (he's  so 
thoughtful);  then  there's  a  variety  of  vegetables — they're  cheap — and 
a  variety  of  fruit.  The  girls  are  always  glad  when  Saturday  comes, 
for,  besides  the  good  things  and  their  father's  improved  appearance, 
they  get  the  delightful,  the  entertaining,  the  loved  Sunday  paper, 
which  they  eagerly  devour  all  the  week.  They  send  the  son  and  heir, 
who  doesn't  love  onions,  to  their  paternal  to  ask  for  the  pap?r  to  read 
his  piece.  This  flatters  him,  so  they  always  get  it,  after  he  has  taken 
a  cursory  glance  at  his  own  effort  and  that  of  his  rival. 

Geniuses  are  seldom  rich,  so  my  beloved's  study  is  the  dining  room, 


SECRETS   TOLD.  Ill 

so  we  make  the  kitchen  do  double  duty,  except  on  Sunday  and  State 
occasions  ;  nevertheless,  he  sees  everything,  hears  everything,  knows 
everything — how  many  pairs  of  stockings  the  girls  possess,  whether 
they  are  darned  or  not ;  if  they  have  let  their  beaux  squeeze  their 
hands  or  kiss  them,  on  the  sly  ;  how  many  of  my  white  petticoats  are 
in  the  wash,  protesting  against  the  fluted  ones  as  useless  extravagance; 
how  many  times  I  change  the  baby's  undershirt ;  scolds  when  we  are 
in  a  hurry  and  hide  the  dishes  under  the  sink.  Nothing  is  hid  from 
his  Argus  eyes  till  we  really  sometimes  wish  that  he  would  play  Pedro 
a  little  more,  or  would  begin  a  great  play,  that  would  absorb  all  his  fac 
ulties,  hearing,  sight  and  smell.  Then  we  wouldn't  keep  the  baby 
forever  on  the  trot,  so  as  not  to  disturb  his  reveries  ;  then  we  could 
sing  out  of  time,  or  even  out  of  tune,  without  his  noticing  it  ;  go  with 
holes  in  our  stockings,  or  even  bustleless  ;  the  dear  girls  could  have 
their  beaux  more  nights  in  the  week  than  one,  and  we  could  make 
molasses  candy  undisturbed  and  eat  onions  in  the  kitchen,  Ye  nine 
Muses,  send  him  an  inspiration,  is  the  prayer  of  three  grown  up 
females. 

HOP-O-MY-THUMB. 
Katie's  secret. 


HOW  A  WOMAN  KEPT  SECRET. 

The  tedium  of  my  office  was  enlivened  the  other  day  by  the  en 
trance  of  Marian.  Now  Marian  has  black  eyes.  And  when  she 
laughs  you  can  imagine  how  pleasant  it  is  to  see  and  hear  her. 

"Oh!  Nunky!"  she  said  as  she  sank  into  my  great  leather  chair — 
this  is  an  affectionate  term  many  of  my  female  friends  use  in  address- 


112  SECRETS   TOLD. 

ing  me,  their  advisor  and  counsellor — "I  have  just  read  in  the  paper 
that  a  woman  can't  keep  a  secret — '' 

'  'Of  course  they  cannot,  that  is  a  known  fact,  and  the  newspapers 
never  lie!"  I  replied. 

"So  I  thought,  but  for  once  they  are  mistaken."  She  said  with  a 
merry  twinkle  in  her  eye.  "For  I've  kept  a  secret  from  my  husband 
for — let  me  see — yes,  six  years;  Oh!  it  was  nothing  he'd  be  ashamed 
to  hear,  so  you  need  not  look  at  me  so  enquiringly." 

''My  child,  I  was  only  thinking  that  six  years  was  a  very  long  time 
to  keep  a  secret. " 

"It  might  be  sixty  before  he  knows  it,  as  I  might  never  tell  him." 

I  began  to  think  she  might  never  tell  me,  also;  but  as  men  have  no 
curiosity,  I  only  felt  that  I  should  like  to  know  in  the  interest  of  science. 

"Uncle  John,  do  you  think  a  woman  tells  her  husband  eyerything  ? 
if  they  did  it  would  make  a  great  deal  of  mischief,  and  for  what  use  ? 
perhaps  to  make  their  husband  and  his  best  friend  mortal  enemies;  be 
cause  forsooth,  he  told  his  friend's  wife  that  she  looked  ever  so  charm 
ing;  or,  pressed  her  fingers  with  one  millioneth  part  of  a  horse  power 
more  than  was  absolutely  necessary  in  an  ordinary  shaking  of  hands; 
oh  dear!  no!  we  are  wiser  than  that,  for  which  of  our  beloveds  comes 
home  and  says  what  a  pleasant  little  flirtation  he  had  with  Mrs.  or 
Miss  So-and-So;  or,  how  he  gave  her  a  ten  cent  bunch  of  violets  which 
his  own  wife  would  have  thought  an  inestimable  present,  presaging 
the  return  of  love's  young  dream,  etc." 

"Oh,  child!  married  men  never  do  such  things,"  I  replied  when 
I  could  get  the  chance. 

"You  are  right.  They  never  do — that  is,  bring  violets  home  to 
their  wife." 

Misunderstood — but  that  is  man's  fate. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  113 

Was  she  never  going  to  divulge  that  six  years'  secret?  Were  the 
newspapers  wrong  after  all  ? 

"So  you  have  not  told  your  husband  yet,"  I  said  in  an  encouraging 
tone. 

"No;  if  I  had  informed  him  too  soon,  it  might  have  brought  all 
my  trouble  back,  strongly  reinforced." 

What  trouble  could  she  have  had  that  she  dreaded  so  ?  She  with 
the  bright  black  eyes;  but  I  was  getting  impatient,  and  after  what 
seemed  to  me  two  hours  and  a  half  of  tantalizing,  I  put  the  leading 
question: 

"Well,  my  dear,  what  was  it?" 

"Oh,  I  haven't  told  you  yet,  have  I  ?  Well,  you  see,  William  was 
very  fond  of  dogs — " 

Pshaw!  only  about  a  dog,  after  all — I  thought. 

"And  as  we  lived  in  a  city  where  there  was  plenty  of  yard  room,  he 
indulged  his  fondness  to  the  bent,  first  in  a  dear  New  Foundland  pup? 
to  bring  up  on  the  bottle;  'he  will  be  such  a  beauty,'  "  Will  said: 

I  looked  disconsolately  at  the  twins,  and  the  little  fellow  just  walk 
ing,  and  sighed.  But  the  pup  must  be  cared  for,  whether  or  no  ;  so  I 
bottled  him  till  he  was  weaned,  and  he  really  was  very  pretty,  but  oh  ! 
so  mischievous.  The  baby  clothes  he  tore  was  enough  to  last  a  little 
one  a  year ;  so  I  told  Will,  but  he  would  only  smile  and  excuse  him. 
One  day  a  friend  came  and  took  a  great  fancy  to  the  dog,  and  after 
begging  very  hard,  Will  finally  gave  him  to  him.  How  glad  I  was  ! 
But  my  joy  was  of  short  duration,  for  the  very  next  day  two  pups — a 
greyhound  and  a  mongrel — at  their  most  mischievous  age,  were 
brought  to  fill  the  vacancy  !  and  so  it  went  on  for  years,  as  fast  as  one 
pup  got  to  be  worth  anything,  a  friend  begged  him  and  one,  two,  or 
three  more  were  brought  to  take  his  place.  My  protests  were  all  in 
vain;  the  ruined  clothes  were  replaced  with  a  smile  and  my  life  was  a 
species  of  purgatory.  First  Alphonse,  one  of  the  twins,  would  pull 


114  SECRETS    TOLD. 

the  pup's  tail ;  then  came  a  shriek;  then  Alfrida,  the  other,  would 
tread  on  a  paw — more  screams  and  cries.  The  washing  had  to  be 
hung  so  high  the  girl  had  to  stand  on  a  barrel,  and  if  anything  hung 
an  inch  too  low,  those  fiends  of  pups  would  jump  and  spring,  claw 
and  tear,  until  they  ruined  hundreds  of  dollars  worth  of  clothes,  but 
William  only  smiled  and  said  we  made  a  mighty  fuss  over  a  few  rags. 
After  several  years  of  this  we  moved  to  a  larger  city,  and  what  was  my 
joy  to  find  we  only  had  a  small  boarded  yard  to  our  house.  No  room 
for  dogs,  thought  I  !  and  for  several  months  we  lived  in  peace,  and 
the  worried  look  was  leaving  my  eyes,  and  the  few  gray  hairs,  after 
being  pulled  out,  did  not  return.  There  was  noting  too  much  for  me 
o  do  for  dear  Will.  Alas,  we  were  too  happy  to  last.  tl  Rap-it-tap" 
came  the  postman  one  day,  with  a  letter  for  Will.  Had  I  known  what  it 
contained,  it  would  have  been  reduced  to  ashes  before  the  seal  was 
broken.  But  I  did  not  know,  so  handed  it,  with  a  smile,  to  Will.  In 
a  moment  he  said  ;'It's  from  brother  Harry.  He  has  a  splendid  pup  !" 
— I  almost  shrieked — "  he  wants  us  to  keep  it  for  him  as  he  has  no 
room,  being  a  bachelor." 

"  But,  Will,  dear,  the  yard  is  too  small — " 
"  Oh,  he'll  only  want  us  to  keep  him  for  a  short  time." 
Arguments,  tears,  prayers,  were  of  no  use.   With  the  daylight  came 
the  pup — now  two  pups,  one  for  Will,  he  being  so  kind!     If  ever  a 
poor  woman's  life  was  miserable,  mine  was,  for  the  mischief  of  all  the 
pups  we  ever  owned  seemed  concentrated  in  these  wretched  two. 

The  girl  said  she  would  not  stay  to  clean  after  no  dogs,  and  it  was 
only  by  raising  her  wages  and  a  great  deal  of  coaxing  that  she  did. 
Nothing  could  be  hung  on  the  line  without  a  guard  to  watch  the  -dogs, 
and  if  the  attention  was  one  moment  diverted,  one  to  ten  dollars 
worth  of  damage  was  done. 

One  day  I  was  particularly  angry;  the  dogs  had  destroyed  about 
thirty-five  dollars  worth  of  clothes,  embroidered  flannels,  and  the  girl's 


SECRETS   TOLD.  115 

shawl — she  made  it  lively  for  Will  that  night — but  he  bought  her  a 
new  shawl  and  gave  me  fifty  dollars,  and  smiled  and  said  for  us  to  talk 
no  more  about  it. 

In  the  morning  he  told  me  he  was  going  on  a  business  trip,  and  to 
have  a  couple  of  clean  shirts  ready.  Oh !  here  was  my  opportunity,  so 
selecting  the  raggedest  two  I  could  find,  they  were  soon  on  the  line, 
but  after  swinging  half  the  day — without  a  guard — they  were  not 
touched  by  the  dogs!  I  was  not  to  be  baffled  thus,  so  sending  for  a 
friend,  a  perfect  adept  at  mischief,  I  asked  her  what  was  to  be  done, 
and  the  result  was,  we  silently  stole  to  the  yard,  with  scissors  in  our 
hands,  and  snipped  and  tore  those  shirts  and  dragged  them  in  the 
muddy  yard,  till  they  were  unrecognizable  as  masculine  garments;  then 
we  let  the  girl  into  the  plot,  and  returned  to  await  the  result.  Will 
was  lively  arid  chatty  at  dinner,  and  Fanny,  my  friend,  was  full  of 
smiles.  At  last  desert  was  brought  in  and  with  the  pie  and  apples  came 
Bridget.  "Look  at  yer  shirt  Mr.  Jones,  torn  to  bits  and  as  black  as 
the  chimbly,  and  its  not  myself  that  can  wash  ye  any  more,  for  the 
mor'n',  and  drat  all  dogs  and  pups,  say  I." 

Will  looked  grave,  but  we  laughed  till  the  tears  came. 

"I  don't  see  anything  so  terribly  funny  in  loosing  the  shirts/*  Will 
remonstrated? 

"No,  not  so  funny  as  forty  or  fifty  dollars  worth  of  flannels  in  a  sin 
gle  day." 

He  got  up  from  the  table  in  a  bad  temper,  and  after  a  little  whiie 
said  he  would  have  to  go  down  town  to  purchase  some  shirts — then 
calling  me  aside  he  said  he  guessed  as  I  did  not  like  dogs  he  would 
take  them  away.  So  he  did,  next  morning  early.  He  and  father  carried 
the  poor  things  tied  in  a  sack,  and  left  them  near  a  slaughterhouse,  so 
that  when  found,  they  could  get  plenty  to  eat;  and  from  that  day  to 
this  our  house  has  been  free  from  dogs."  I  laughed  heartily  at  her 
woman's  wit  and  thought  perhaps  some  of  my  poor  worried  lady 


116  SECRETS   TOLD. 

friends  could  utilize  Marian's  experience  in  getting  rid  of  some  of  their 
innumerable  troubles. 

"It's  well  you  did  not  tell  your  husband,  or  he  would  have  swarmed 
the  house  with  dogs  in  revenge  for  being  sold  ! 

"So  I  thought,  and  that  is  why  I  kept  my  mouth  shut,"  and  I  ad 
mired  her  discretion.  HOP-O-MY-THUMB. 
And  this  is  Marian's  secret. 


ABOUT  GOING  ON  THE  STAGE. 

The  other  morning,  Annie,  my  latest  female  confidante,  tripped 
into  my  office,  and  after  the  usual  salutations  were  over,  she  began : 

"  Mr. ,"  as  yet  she  was  not  so  well  acquainted  as  to  call  me 

uncle,  "a  friend  of  mine  wishes  to  go  on  the  stage,  and  I  came  to  ask 
your  advice  as  the  only  one  among  my  acquaintances  who  would  be 
likely  to  have  an  intelligent  opinion  on  the  subject  ?" 

'  Well  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith " — she  was  married  although  quite 
young — "I  have  no  personal  experience  on  the  subject,  but  many  of 
my  professional  friends  have  told  me  their  trials  and  triumphs,  and 
some  of  the  petty  annoyances  connected  with  that  envied  life." 

"But  what  do  you  think  of  the  advisability  of  adopting  it  as  a  pro 
fession?  A  bread  profession,  I  mean." 

"My  dear,  there  are  many  things  to  take  into  consideration,  which 
are  applicable  according  to  the  individual.  Do  you  wish  to  know  if 
it  is  advisable  for  your  friend  to  go  on  the  stage,  or  for  any  one  in 
general  ?" 

"Oh,  for  my  friend  of  course.     You  see  she's  very  poor." 

"Ah!  that  is  bad,  for  no  one  who  is  very  poor,  can  use   that  inde- 


SECRETS    TOLD.  117 

pendence  of  action,  that  is  necessary  to  success;  poverty,  too,  has  a  de 
pressing  effect,  causing  one  to  think  more  meanly  of  one's  self,  than 
they  would  dressed  fashionably,  with  a  full  purse  in  their  pocket — and 
causing  the  public  to,  also,  as  for  the  matter  of  that!" 

"Oh!  my,  and  she  has  two  or  three  little  children,  and  needs  the 
money  so  bad! " 

"Worse  again,  it  is  a  late  day  to  begin  such  a  profession,  when  a 
woman  is  married  and  has  several  children,  for  no  matter  how  much 
genius  she  has,  her  children  must  be  her  first  thought,  if  she  has  any 
heart;  then,  too,  she  is  obliged  to  be  off  the  stage  so  much,  that  the 
reputation  she  makes  one  year,  she  loses  by  her  absence  the  next. 
One  must  keep  constantly  before  the  public,  in  one  city  or  another, 
I  don't  believe  in  remaining  always  in  one  place,  with  their  names 
often  in  the  papers,  or  they  will  be  soon  forgotten." 

"Then  you  don't  believe  in  a  married  woman  going  on  the  stage  ? 
I  thought  as  there  were  so  many  distressed  mothers  depicted,  that  a 
married  woman  would  have  quite  an  advantage." 

"So  she  would,  if  she  were  wealthy  enough  to  have  the  very  best  of 
servants  and  nurses,  and  her  mother  or  sister  to  oversee  them.  Now, 
I'm  not  one  of  those  who  believe  that  if  an  actress  has  not  all  the 
young  fellows  in  their  teens  crazy  about  her,  that  she  is  not  a  success; 
for  one  who  is  a  favorite  with  the  ladies  has  a  still  greater  chance  of 
drawing,  and  they  don't  care  if  they  are  married  or  single,  in  fact,  I 
think  they  would  rather  they  were  married." 

"Do  you  not  think  it  is  the  easiest  way  for  a  woman  to  make  a 
living  ?" 

"Do  you  remember  the  old  recipe  of  how  to  cook  a  hare — 'first 
catch  your  hare !'  " 

"How  ?     I  do  not  understand." 

' 'First,  get  upon  the  stage.  How  many  professional  people,  some 
with  a  great  deal  of  talent,  too,  do  you  suppose,  are  constantly  idle,  in 


118  SECRETS   TOLD. 

every  city  ?  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  get  an  engagement  of  any  kind. 
Why,  some  of  my  acquaintances  who  have  been  on  the  stage  for  years 
are  still  in  the  ballet,  with  a  very  occasional  speaking  part,  and  there 
they  may  remain  for  years  longer  unless  some  lucky  accident  pushes 
them  forward,  for  a  manager  rarely  does.  Indeed,  I  have  known 
some  managers  who  would  keep  a  person  back  all  they  could;  and  it 
is  only  by  the  greatest  perseverance  and  energy  and  confidence  in  one's 
self — mind  me,  not  a  foolish  self-conceit — for  that  disgusts — that  a 
woman  makes  the  least  headway.  I  think  a  man  has  a  better  chance, 
as  there  are  always  so  many  more  male  characters  in  the  generality  of 
pieces. " 

"Why,  I  thought  a  manager  was  glad  to  get  a  debutante  v 

"Yes,  when  the  houses  are  empty,  and  she  will  put  down  her  little 
seven  or  eight  hundred  dollars,  and  then  sometimes  the  dead,  dead 
failure  the  said  debutante  makes,  hurts  the  reputation  of  the  theatre 
more  than  the  money  she  pays  helps  it.  How  many  of  the  ladies, 
especially  those  who  made  their  debut  with  a  little  family  already  on 
their  hands,  are  no\v  upon  the  stage  ?  Why,  here  in  our  own  beau 
tiful  city,  I  can  remember,  within  the  year,  the  first  appearance  of,  I 
think,  a  half-a-dozen  Mrs.  So-and-So's,  who  are  never  heard  of,  ex 
cept  one,  and  she  made  the  deadest  failure  of  all,  and  never  will  suc 
ceed,  as  she  is  passe  and  has  not  even  talent,  let  alone  genius,  which 
is  necessary  for  a  complete  success;  but  she,  I  presume,  has  given  it 
up,  as  a  not  paying  occupation — at  least  for  her." 

"Why,  I  thought  it  was  so  easy.  I  have  often  fancied  I  could  do 
as  well,  or  even  better  than  lots  of  the  ladies  I  see  at  our  best  theatres." 

I  laughed  heartily.  "Ah!  that's  what  so  many  think  till  they  try. 
Why,  I  saw  a  lady,  who  brought  bills  from  Australia,  with  her  name  as 
Lady  Macbeth  in  big  letters,  fail  entirely  on  the  stage  of  a  metropoli 
tan  theatre,  in  only  a  small  part,  back  up  the  stage  as  if  she  wanted 
to  go  through  the  scenery,  with  no  word  audible  except  the  sentence , 


SECRETS    TOLD. 

'I'd  slap  his  face!'  The  next  night  she  did  not  appear,  although  her 
name  was  on  the  bills." 

"Oh!  you  discourage  me  about  my  friend,  for  I  don't  think  she  had 
much  talent,  and  I  know  she  has  no  money;  but  I  thought  she  could 
do  well  enough,  and  fifty  or  seventy-five  dollars  a  week  would  keep 
her  nicely." 

"Why,  my  dear,  you  must  think  the  theatres  are  perfect  gold  mines! 
Do  you  know  what  ballet  girls  used  to  get  in  one  of  the  big  western 
cities?  Three  dollars  a  week  and  dress  themselves.  That  would  be 
scarcely  enough  to  keep  a  family  of  several  persons." 

"Oh! — that  is  horrid.  Why  the  mean,  stingy  things." 

"Yes,  and  even  then  they  were  overrun  with  applications,  just 
because  so  many  think  as  you  do,  that  it  is  so  easy,  that  one  can  step 
into  a  great  profession,  begin  at  the  top,  with  a  month  or  two  of  in 
different  preparation  and  shine  as  stars!  many  who  attempt  it  had  bet 
ter  be  at  the  wash  tub,  or  sewing  machine,  or  making  good  bread, 
something  they  could  do  with  credit  to  themselves  and  pleasure  to 
their  fellow  beings." 

If  one  must  go  upon  the  stage,  if  their  love  for  it  is  so  great  they 
are  ready  to  endure  any  hardships  and  privations,  besides  any  amoun 
of  snubbing  and  criticisim  by  the  papers;  if  they  are  willing  to  give 
their  whole  heart  and  mind  to  their  profession;  if  their  head  is  so 
strong  that  no  amount  of  flattery  or  temptation  is  able  to  turn  it;  if 
they  can  live  for  years  without  fancying  they  are  in  love;  if  they  have 
immense  genius  and  some  beauty  and  are  still  young,  then  I  say  go." 

"Keep  a  clear  head,  a  free  heart,  and  mount  the  ladder  of  Fame  as 
rapidly  as  possible.  Make  the  most  of  your  youth,'  and  heaven  bless 
and  protect  you  in  one  of  the  noblest  of  professions." 

My  friend  sighed  and  said  : 

"  Well!  I'll  tell  her  what  you  say,  but  she'll  be  so  disappointed." 

"  She  had   better  be  so  now,  than  afterwards." 

"  That's  true."     And  Annie  sorrowfully  left  the  office. 

HOP-O'-MY-THUMB. 


120  SECRETS    TOLD. 


SPEAK  YOUR  MIND. 

Speak  your  mind;  speak  it  right  out;  show  your  independence;  it's 
manly,  too.  If  you  think  Mr.  —  is  a  villian,  say  so;  or  if  your  pri 
vate  opinion  is  that  he  is  not  overburthened  with  sense  call  him  a 
blanked  fool  on  the  public  streets;  it  will  show  your  courage,  and 
that  you're  not  afraid  of  him.  If  you  hear  a  party  of  gentlemen 
whom  you  know,  or  are  slightly  acquainted  with,  discussing  some 
topic,  just  step  up  and  speak  your  mind  on  the  subject  without  waiting 
to  asked;  it  will  show  that  you  consider  yourself  just  as  good  as  any 
of  them. 

If  you  know  anything  to  the  detriment  of  a  public  man,  or  one  in 
high  position,  tell  it  to  everyone  you  meet;  it  will  strengthen  their 
good  opinion  of  you,  and  help  to  destroy  their  faith  in  him,  and  so 
conduce  to  the  equalizing  of  the  race.  And  if  you  know  anything 
against  a  woman,  speak  your  mind,  or  a  little  more  so;  your  gentle 
men  friends  will  think  you  are  a  "  knowing  dog,"  and  the  ladies  be 
fascinated  by  your  Don  Juan  experiences. 

There's  nothing  like  it.  If  you  think  a  bank  is  a  little  shaky,  rush  and 
get  your  money  out,  then  tell  every  body  the  bank  is  going  to  burst; 
you'll  most  likely  cause  a  'run"  on  it,  and  make  your  words  come 
true;  no  matter  how  many  widows  and  orphans  are  left  to  starve  by 
your  frankness,  or  how  many  an  honest  man  to  die  of  grief,  you're  all 
right;  you've  got  your  money,  and  spoken  your  mind.  If  you  hear 
that  Mr.  So-and-So  isn't  square  in  his  dealings,  no  matter  how  worth 
less  a  man  informs  you  that  that  is  his  opinion,  tell  every  one  that  he 
is  a  thief  and  cheats  his  customers;  gives  short  weight,  and  adulterates 


SECRETS    TOLD. •  121 

his  goods,  or  keeps  the  very  poorest;  you'll  soon  injure  his  business, 
no  matter  if  he  is  a  good  man,  entirely  unknown  to  you,  and  never  did 
you  the  least  harm.  You  have  performed  your  duty  to  society,  for 
you  heard  so,  and  are  therefore  blamless  of  the  consequences. 

And  if  some  miserable  scamp  brags  of  his  success  with  some  re 
spectable  girl-,  no  matter  if  it's  ever  so  much  a  lie,  stare  at  her  when 
ever  you  see  her  in  the  street;  it  won't  hurt  if  you  even  wink  at  her 
Point  her  out  to  all  your  acquaintances  as  So-and-So's  girl,  no  matter  if 
it  blasts  her  reputation,  and  your  gentlemen  friends  forbid  their 
daughters  associating  with  her;  and  seeing  she  is  avoided  by  her  own 
sex,  she  finally  goes  to  destruction,  and  perhaps  fills  a  suicide's  grave. 
What  should  you  care  ?  You  heard  so,  and  only  spoke  your  mind. 

Why,  it  is  something  to  brag  of,  this  frankness!  Witness  the  man 
who  says: 

"  I  always  speak  my  mind,  I  do;  there's  no  foolishness  about  me  I" 
He  is  so  well  liked  by  those  who  know  him,  and  he  is  too  frank  to  be 
polite. 

"  It's  only  hypocrisy  to  bow  and  smile  at  a  man  when  you  don't 
care  for  him,  and  hoping  he's  well  when  you  don't  hope  anything 
about  it;  and  as  for  giving  your  seat  to  a  woman  in  the  cars,  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  ever  do.  Why  can't  a  man  be  frank  and  do  only  what  he 
feels  like  doing  ?"  This  is  the  catechism  he  acts  by,  and  when  he 
dies,  how  he  is  bemoaned  and  wept  for! 

And  aren't  clubs  splendid  places  to  speak  your  minds  ?  No  matter 
on  what  a  slight  thread  of  truth  some  wicked  story  is  based,  tell  it  over 
and  over  again,  and  give  your  opinion  besides;  this  dresses  it — gives  it 
color,  and  when  it  leaves  the  clubs  you  wouldn't  know  your  own 
story;  no  matter  what  home  it  makes  desolate,  the  story  is  too  good 
to  keep.  Oh!  what  a  precious  set  of  old  gossips  you  club  men  are! 

The  ladies  never,  or  hardly  ever,  speak  their  minds.  They  don't 
like  sewing  circles  where  they  can  do  a  few  stitches  for  the  poor, 


122  SECRETS   TOLD. 

while  politely  killing  some  woman's  reputation  with  all  the  sweetness 
possible,  forgetting  they  are  mothers  themselves,  with  daughters 
whose  reputations  are  as  dear  to  them  as  their  heart's  blood,  yet  ne 
glecting  to  spare  the  blighting  word  for  some  body  else's  loved  daugh 
ters.  Oh,  no;  they  are  so  reticent  about  all  the  evil  they  hear,  that 
they  never  repeat  it  at  morning  calls,  and  not  remembering  the  exact 
words  never  give  it  in  language  of  their  own,  which  don't  detract  from 
the  point  of  scandal,  you  may  be  sure!  Oh,  no! 

One  single  case.  Oh  !  yes;  two,  happen  every  day  in  this  goodly 
city,  where  the  women  courageously  say  just  what  they  think. 

"You  nasty,  mean,  stingy  thing,  you!  Can't  you  come  home  and 
cut  the  wood,  and  not  be  here  every  day  playing  the  dirty  cards  ?  Oh, 
you're  a  nice  set,  enticing  a  husband  from  his  home  to  play  cards  for 
the  mean  whisky  you  love  to  drink,  you  mean,  dirty  dog,  you!"  Now, 
that's  a  brave  woman.  All  the  gentlemen  assembled  in  that  sample 
room  think  her  a  fine  specimen  of  womanhood,  and  wonder  how  in 
the  world  a  husband  could  ever  leave  her  side!  How  much  better 
this  is  than  merely  to  appear  at  the  door  and  say: 

"Mr.  Jones!"  and  have  the  aforesaid  Jones  spring  up  as  if  he  had 
gat  on  a  pin,  and  throwing  down  his  half  finished  hand,  walk  off  dig 
nified  with  his  dignified  wife.  Now  that  spoils  all  sport,  and  the  rest 
of  the  men  have  nothing  to  joke  him  about.  But  even  that  is  more 
emphatic  and  expressive  than  the  timid — 

"Pet,  dinner  is  ready,"  whispered  at  the  door.  Men  don't  appre 
ciate  that,  and  come  when  they  want,  no  matter  if  the  other  Pet  is 
waiting  and  dinner  does  get  cold.  It  is  so  much  better  to  speak  out 
and  act  out  your  mind.  Just  walk  in  and  take  him  by  the  ear  with  a 
grip  like  a  pair  of  dentist's  nippers,  so  that  either  he  or  the  ear  has  to 
come,  and  say  gently: 

"Love,  dinner  is  on  the  table!"  You  speak  your  mind,  and  the 
g  entlemen  think  he  at  least  has  a  treasure  who  knows  her  business, 


SECRETS    TOLD.  123 

and  won't  stand  any  nonsense.     They  know  that  ends  it,  and  he  gets 
no  Caudle  lecture. 

Oh!  gentlemen,  oh!  ladies,  speak  your  minds  on  every  subject,  and 
on  all  occasions.  Don't  you  believe  that  any  one  was  ever  scandalized 
into  an  early  grave;  don't  trouble  yourself  that  your  words  ever 
helped  cause  the  waters  to  close  over  one  more  unfortunate,  or  the 
bullet  to  go  crashing  through  a  brain,  sending  the  soul,  all  unprepared 
to  its  Maker. 

Don't  you  believe  that  the  charity  which  covers  a  multitude  of  sins, 
without  which  all  goodness  is  as  sounding  brass;  don't  you  believe 
that  it  means  to  think  kindly  of  one  another;  to  speak  only  the  good 
you  know;  to  try  to  cover  our  brother's  fault  from  the  gaping  eyes  and 
ears  of  curiosity;  don't  you  believe  it  is  to  guard  the  reputation  of 
the  helpless,  to  stimulate  the  weak  or  erring,  to  regain  the  lost  path. 
Don't  you  believe  that  Christ's  Divine  Charity  is  so  often  the  Charity  of 
Silence  ?  HOP-O-MY-THUMB. 

Susie's  idea. 


ALL  FOR  LOVE. 

Chapter  I. 

It  is  midnight  in  Lady  Elmer  Dudley's  boudoir,  the  air  is  filled 
with  a  subtle  perfume  that  clings  to  laces,  curtains,  statues,  flowers;  it 
feels  the  abode  of  passionate,  dreamy  luxury.  The  presence  of  a  pert 
and  pretty  lady's  maid  slightly  destroys  the  fascination.  She  is  looking 
in  the  mirror  with  a  pleased  satisfaction  on  her  face.  These  were  her 
thoughts,  for  few  people  talk  alone,  save  in  plays  or  when  they  get  old 
and  witchish. 


124  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"  It's  fine  feathers  makes  fine  birds,  say  I.  Who  wouldn't  look  well 
with  a  long  train,  and  hair  all  be-jimcracked  up  with  diamants  and 
things?  I  should  like  to  mingle  in  yonder  gay  and  festive  scene,  and 
try  the  power  of  my  charms  among  my  equals. "  Then  as  the 
music  came  softly  and  sweetly  from  the  ball-room,  she  became 
enthusiastic  :  Now  there's  the  divine  polka.  Oh  !  for  a  partner. " 
But  no  one  was  there,  so  she  seized  one  of  the  gilded  chairs.  Ct  What* 
lovely  woman  reduced  to  this  !  A  stick;  but  what  are  men  but  sticks — 
sometimes,  or  why  would  they  say  "she  picked  up  a  crooked  stick  at 
last."  Then  she  laughed,  overflowing  with  a  natural  vivacity  of  spirits, 
and  danced  around  the  room  with  the  little  chair  as  partner.  A  low 
knock  a.t  the  door  caused  her  to  stop,  making  a  pretty  picture. 

A  voice  outside  said  in  a  loud  whisper: 

"May  I  come  in  ?"  It  was  Cubby,  Sir  Francis  Hilton's  valet,  who 
was  a  guest  in  the  ball-room  beyond. 

"Oh,  there's  my  young  man  !" 

"The  highflyers  are  all  polkaing;  can  I  speak  a  word  to  my 
charmer  ?" 

"  'Sh!  one  short  moment,  Cubby!"  She  opens  the  door  wider,  he 
takes  her  round  the  waist,  and  they  polka  extravagantly  till  she  is  out 
of  breath  and  falls  into  a  chair.  He  goes  to  the  bureau,  and  exam 
ining  the  beautiful  things  there,  says  : 

"Oh!  this  is  an  earthly  Paradise!  What  is  this  ?  Cologney?"  And 
he  hands  the  exquisite  perfume  bottle  to  the  pretty  Willet,  and  tells 
her  "Fumigate  me,  my  charmer;"  and  bending  his  head,  she  satur 
ates  his  hair;  then  he  pulls  out  an  immense  lace  handkerchief,  which 
she  treats  in  the  same  manner. 

"That  will  do.  It's  nice  to  be  a  gentleman's  gentleman;  don't  you 
think  so,  Willet  ?" 

"It's  nicer  to  be  a  lady's  lady,  don't  you  think  so,  Cubby  ?" 

uPon  honor,   couldn't  tell,  never  being  a  female,  you  know.     Ah, 


SECRETS    TOLD.  125 

the  polka  is  ended;  I  must  make  myself  scarce — but  I  should  like  to 
see  the  beauties  in  all  their  flustration  from  the  dance/' 

"You  indiscreet  man  !  it  would  be  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth. 
They  are  coming — vanish  !" 

"  I  vanish!''  and  he  does.  She  throws  herself  in  a  chair  using  her 
apron  as  a  fan.  "  I  declare,  I'm  all  in  a  flutter!  If  they  had  seen 
him  here,  what  would  they  have  thought  ?  Oh,  my !"  she  stood  up 
meekly  as  two  beautiful  women  entered,  Lady  Clare  De  Mille,  blonde, 
medium  height  and  gentle,  with  a  reserve  force  beneath  the  surface; 
and  Lady  Elmer  Dudley,  brunette,  tall  and  passionate,  both  dressed 
in  the  extreme  of  wealth  and  fashion.  Elmer  was  looking  at  her 
friend,  pleased,  yet  half  amazed;  she  said: 

"Oh-!  Clare,  you  look  beautiful  to-night!  Not  the  splendor  that 
dazzles  and  repels,  but  the  beauty  that  attracts  and  subdues." 

"  Elmer,  don't  spoil  your  little  friend.  Flattery  from  a  woman  is 
more  subtle  and  dangerous  than  the  little  civilities  we  have  a  right  to 
expect  from  our  cavaliers." 

"Then  how  you  dance!  Your  very  heart  seems  in  it.  The  elec 
tricity  of  your  happiness  is  sensibly  affecting  every  one  in  yonder  ball 
room.  Clare,  tell  me  the  secret." 

"Would  you  know  what  renders  earth  a  Paradise  to  me  to-night  ? 
Then  I  will  tell  you;  the  most  potent  of  all  powers — love." 

Willet,  standing  behind  them,  clasps  her  hands  in  feminine  approval 
and  delight,  uttering  a  subdued  "  oh,  my!" 

"  Is  it  the  most  potent  ?"  Elmer  asked,  with  an  accent  that  showed 
she  thought  otherwise. 

"  What  else  could  change  a  desert  into  an  Eden,  a  prison  into  a  palace? 
What  other  power  would  make  us  willing  to  harden  our  dainty  hands, 
or  brown  our  snow-white  brows  ?  Let  misfortune  come  to  lovers 
truly  wedded,  what  will  they  not  endure  ?  hardships,  trials,  or  even 
death,  before  a  separation." 


126  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"  I  should  not  wish  you  for  a  rival,  Clare ;  that  earnestness  and 
enthusiasm  would  keep  a  lover  true  and  firm.  But  there  is  a  feeling 
more  powerful  even  than  love — jealousy  !  Clare,  as  much  as  I  love 
you,  did  you  come  between  me  and  my  heart's  idol,  I  would  kill  you." 
But  the  gentle  Clare  only  laughed.  "  Oh,  Elmer,  never  fear,  my  love 
is  too  constant  to  change,  and  my  heart  is  so  filled  with  one  image 
there  is  not  room  for  any  other  !" 

"  That  is  my  dear,  true  friend,"  and  she  kissed  her,  gaily.  "Neither 
shall  my  heart  wander  from  my  chosen  one,  so  we  shall  each  be  as 
secure  in  our  love  as  a  queen  on  her  throne."  They  were  interrupted 
by  Cubby  bringing  in  a  tray  of  refreshments.  He  handed  it  to  them. 

"Sherbet  or  ices,  ladies?"  Elmer,  smiling,  turned  to  Clare,  and 
said: 

"A  little  refreshment,  Clare,  dear,  will  enable  us  better  to  go  through 
with  our  arduous  task.  This  dancing,  dancing,  till  even  the  stars  are 
weary  and  hiding  their  paling  splendor,  is  no  easy  task,  fair  ladye 
mine !"  So  they  sit,  Clare  taking  an  ice,  and  Elmer  Sherbet.  But 
the  music  begins,  and  Clare  is  impatient  to  go  back  into  the  ball  room. 
"It  is  almost  impossible  to  sit  calmly  sipping  this  prosaic  ice,  while 
the  music  of  the  divine  Mozart  makes  my  very  nerves  thrill!" 

"  Do  you  never  tire!" 

"Not  when  my  heart's  chosen  whispers  words  of  love  that  are 
audible  to  no  ears  but  mine,  and  his  arm  encircles  me.  Elmer,  I  have 
never  waltzed  before  save  with  my  brother,  so  to-night  I  have  tasted 
for  the  first  time  the  delirium  of  the  waltz." 

"My  idol  has  not  so  honored  me  as  yet,  but  then  we  are  still  un- 
betrothed." 

"Then  you  have  yet  to  know  earth's  sweetest  pleasure.  What 
woman  would  not  envy  me  the  love  of  Sir  Francis  Hilton?" 

Lady   Elmer   started   voilently,    and   the   glass  fell  from  her  hand, 


SECRETS   TOLD.  127 

breaking  to  pieces.  The  servants  sweep  them  up,  and  leave  the  room. 
Poor  Clare  was  frightened,  and  springing  to  her  side,  asked: 

"  What  is  it,  Elmer  ?     Are  you  in  pain  ?" 

uYes;  a  deathly  pain  at  my  heart;  it  will  be  over  soon."  Then 
looking  in  the  glass,  she  said:  "How  pale  it  has  made  me!"  Clare 
handed  her  some  perfume,  and  wished  to  call  Willet,  but  Elmer 
shook  her  head. 

"  What  silly  girls  we  are,"  she  said  smilling.  "  See,  my  color  is 
returning;  I  shall  be  ready  for  the  Lancers;"  and  as  Willet  entered, 
she  bade  her  re-arrange  the  flowers  in  her  hair. 

"  Now  who  is  beautiful  ?"  cried  Clare.  ' '  The  color  of  your  cheek 
rivals  the  fairest  rose,  and  your  eyes  flash  brighter  than  the  diamonds 
on  your  brow." 

"Would  that  my  chosen  had  thought  so,"  she  said  sadly;  then  sud 
denly  changing:  "Are  not  these  beautiful  ?  My  dear  father  gave 
them  to  me  on  this,  my  birthnight;"  and  she  took  from  her  ears  two 
of  the  largest  and  most  brilliant  of  diamonds  and  handed  them  to 
Clare. 

"Yes,  they  are  very  beautiful,  and  see  !  they  sparkle  as  brightly  as 
if  you  had  not  suffered  that  dreadful  pain  just  now;  so  you  are  in  no 
danger  while  your  diamonds  shine." 

"Were  the  legend  true,  my  diamonds  would  be  as  lead — but  do  not 
let  us  talk  nonsense.  See  how  my  diamonds  sparkle  for  you!"  and 
she  put  them  in  Clare's  ears.  "So  no  ill  omen  warns  you  to-night 
Look,  do  they  not  become  you  ?" 

"They  are  finer  than  any  I  possess.  Diamonds  have  a  beauty  of 
their  own,  without  any  regard  to  their  intrinsic  value." 

Elmer  sends  Willet  for  a  glass  of  water,  then  perfumes  Clare's 
handkerchief  that  she  lays  down  while  she  removes  the  earrings  from 
her  ears. 

*V     rt»    TOT*  *^^  J^\ 


128  SECRETS   TOLD. 

"I  expect  Sir  Francis  is  wondering  what  has  become  of  us,"  said 
Clare,  looking  toward  the  door. 

An  expression  of  pain  and  horror  passed  over  Elmer's  face,  as  she 
pushed  Clare's  handkerchief  toward  her.  Willet  entered  with  the 
water,  and  Cubby  came  in  haste,  saying: 

"They  are  asking  for  the  ladies." 

Elmer  suddenly  put  her  hands  to  her  ears,  then  looked  on  the 
bureau,  exclaiming: 

"Where  are  my  earrings?  Cubby,  call  a  policeman  quick!  I  have 
been  robbed!" 

Cubby  went  to  the  door  and  blew  his  policeman's  whistle,  and  then 
returned;  but  Willett  was  indignant:  "You  need  not  try  to  put  the 
theft  on  me,  mem;  I  left  the  room  with  them  hanging  in  Lady  Clare's 
ears."  Cubby  quietly  felt  his  hair,  hoping  his  charmer  didn't  pour 
them  on  his  head  with  the  "Cologney."  But  the  policeman  arrived, 
and  asked  Lady  Elmer  what  she  wished. 

"My  diamond  earrings  cannot  be  found.  They  are  my  dear  father's 
gift,  and  I  would  not  lose  them  for  fifty  times  their  value."  Hearing 
the  policeman's  whistle,  and  the  excitement,  Sir  Francis  Hilton  and 
many  of  the  guests,  with  Clare's  mother  and  Elmer's  father,  came  to 
see  what  had  happened.  The  policeman  walked  directly  over  to 
Willet,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"Come,  my  girl,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself?"  But  Willet 
knowing  her  innocence,  and  having  plenty  of  spirit,  took  his  hand 
trom  her  shoulder,  and  dusted  her  dress  with  a  lace  handkerchief. 

"Hands  off,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Policeman,  you  are  on  the  wrong 
track.  You  will  have  to  hunt  higher  game  to-night!"  she  said  signi 
ficantly,  and  Cubby  shook  his  fist  at  him,  but  behind  his  back. 

"Dear  Elmer,  they  were  here  a  few  moments  ago;  they  cannot 
have  been  stolen !"  and  Clare  looked  eagerly  on  floor  and  bureau. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  129 

"See,  they  are  nowhere  to  be  found;"  then  in  a  stern  voice  she  said: 
"Willet,  what  have  you  done  with  them  ?" 

This  made  her  very  angry,  and  she  replied  in  a  high  excited  voice: 

"You  can't  lay  it  on  me,  my  lady.  I  left  the  room  with  them  stick 
ing  in  Lady  Clare's  ears,  and  she  admiring  herself  in  the  looking-glass, 
and  I  hadn't  reached  my  lady  with  the  water  she  ordered,  before  she 
discovered  she  were  robbed.  Oh!  if  you  want  to  see,  here  is  my 
pockets!"  and  she  turned  them  inside  out,  throwing  on  the  floor 
various  articles;  a  love  letter,  several  shillings,  a  piece  of  cake  and 
an  apple,  that  she  had  just  taken  to  refresh  herself.  "Are  you  satisfied^ 
Mr.  Policeman?  Cubby  turned  his  pockets  out,  too,  and  the  other 
servants  crowded  both  the  doors.  Then  Elmer  said  with  a  start: 

"Oh,  I  remember;  my  friend,  Lady  Clare  and  I,  were  alone — of 
course  they  can  be  found.  Policeman,  your  services  are  not  needed." 

"You  sent  for  me,  my  lady,  and  my  duty  is  to  arrest  the  thief,  if 
you  have  been  robbed.  Her  ladyship  being  innocent,  will  not  object 
to  being  searched.  It  is  a  mere  formality." 

"I  decline  to  be  searched!"  Clare  replied  with  great  dignity.  They 
all  looked  astonished.  "I  am  an  Earl's  daughter,  descended  from  a 
line  of  ancestors,  whose  proud  boast  has  been  for  five  hundred  years, 
their  escutcheon  without  a  soil!"  Sir  Francis  stepped  to  her  side  and 
said : 

"The  lady  is  right;  she  shall  not  be  searched." 

Elmer  turned  to  the  policeman: 

"Officer,  please  go;  you  see,  we  have  no  use  for  you." 

But  he  would  not  stir. 

"  If  the  lady  declines  to  give  proof  of  her  innocence  the  only  duty 
left  me  will  be  to  arrest  her. !" 

But  they  all  exclaimed  in  horror,  "  Oh!"  and  Sir  Francis  said  coldly 
and  determined: 

"Do  not  dare!" 


130  SECRETS   TOLD. 

"Officer,  please  go.  I  would  rather  lose  my  fortune,  than  my 
friend  should  suffer  such  an  indignity." 

"Lay  your  hand  on  that  lady,  and  you  are  a  dead  man!"  But 
Clare  spoke  sweetly: 

"Sir  Francis,  it  needs  no  blood  to  vindicate  my  innocence;  Heaven 
will  do  that!"  and  she  took  her  hand  from  her  pocket,  holding  her 
little  lace  handkerchief,  and  pointed  upward. 

But  what  were  those  sparks  of  light  that  fell  from  the  upraised  hand? 
The  Policeman  pointed  in  triumph  to  the  floor:  "See  the  diamonds!" 

Sir  Francis  prayed,  fi  Heaven  shield  her!"  And  Elmer  burst  into 
tears,  and  cried,  "  Oh,  my  friend!"' 

But  Clare  still  stood,  with  her  hand  yet  raised,  a  statue  of  innocence. 


Chapter  II. 

The  whole  house  was  in  confusion.  Of  course  every  one  had  their 
opinion,  even  to  the  servants,  whether  the  Lady  Clare  was  guilty  or 
not  guilty.  Willet  ran  hither  and  thither,  helping  the  guests,  who 
were  as  hurried  in  their  departure  as  if  a  pestilence  had  struck  the 
house.  But  who  can  blame  them  ?  Sorrow  and  misfortune  are  so 
hard  to  witness;  we  know  not  what  to  say,  or  how  to  act,  and  if  we 
are  prompted  to  console,  are  very  like  to  utter  words  we  may  long 
wish  unsaid.  The  tongue  is  a  terrible  little  mischief  maker,  some 
times,  too,  when  we  think  it  covered  with  the  balm  of  peace.  Willet 
had  lost  all  her  gaiety.  uAh!"  she  thought,  "Fine  feathers  don't  al 
ways  make  fine  birds,  it  seems."  In  her  heart,  she  was  sorry  for 
Clare,  and  thought  the  diamonds  must  have  gotten  into  her  pocket 
without  her  knowledge — perhaps  caught  in  her  handkerchief,  or  fallen 
in.  Then  she  uttered  aloud: 

"How  quickly  our  fine  ball  has  broken  up.     Why,  some  of  the 


SECRETS   TOLD.  131 

ladies  even  fainted,  and  some  said  they  were  never  so  insulted  in  all 
their  lives.  The  heartless  things!"  But  Cubby  stopped  any  further 
soliloquism  by  throwing  his  arms  around  her  in  a  consoling  manner, 
and  said  in  a  pathetic  voice: 

"Dear  Willet,  I'm  so  glad  you  turned  your  pockets  out,  and  didn't 
pour  the  diamonds  on  me  with  the  perfumery;  for  how  could  such  a 
gentle  being  as  me,  bear  even  the  suspicin  of  such  a  dreadful  thing  ? 
To  think  that  our  grand  birthnight  ball  should  end  with  such  a  catas 
trophe.  Well,  all  is  vanity!" 

"There's  a  mystery  about  them  diamants  that  I  don't  like.  When's 
the  trial  to  be?" 

"As  soon  as  possible.  My  lady's  out  on  bail,  but  wants  her  honorable 
name  cleared.  Ah !  she  should  not  have  let  vanity  get  the  better  of 
her." 

"What!  do  you  suppose  she  stole  them?" 

"  Of  course;  how  else  could  they  have  got  into  her  ladyship's 
pocket?" 

"And  do  you  suppose  a  lady  would  descend  to  such  a  thing  ?" 

"Why  not  ?  They  say  you  women  folks  would  sell  your  souls 
almost,  for  a  bit  of  finery." 

"They  say!     May  I  ask  your  highness  who.  'they'  are?" 

"Mankind,  the  people,  we,  the  world!" 

"  Oh!  we!  then  'we'  had  better  look   into  our  pockets,  and  see  if 
hat  gorgeous  handkerchief  'we'  displayed  last  night  hasn't  transferred 
itself  into  mine!" 

"My  charming  Willet,  I  only  wish  it  had,  and  me  with  it!" 

"Then  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Cubby,  my  pockets  would  be  shook  into 
the  dust  bin,  as  soon  as  my  feet  could  carry  me  there!"  and  she 
flounced  out  of  the  room  as  only  an  indignant  woman  can. 

But  Cubby  only  whistled,  and  thought  what  a  tartar  she  was,  when 
Sir  Francis  entered  the  room,  and  told  him  to  order  Lady  De  Mille's 


132  SECRETS    TOLD. 

carriage  immediately.  He  felt  so  bitterly  outraged  and  insulted  that 
his  betrothed  wife  should  have  suffered  such  an  indignity,  and  in  the 
house,  too,  of  the  lady  who  had  always  appeared  to  be  such  a  dear 
friend.  He  suspected  some  plot,  but  what  could  be  the  motive?  He 
could  not  even  conceive  of  one. 

He  determined  that  he  would  plead  her  cause;  knowing  and  feeling 
her  innocence  as  he  did,  he  thought  it  would  be  easy  to  place  the  jury 
m  rapport  with  himself,  and  so  cause  her  speedy  vindication. 

Clare's  mother  was  nearly  frantic,  and  rushing  to  Sir  Francis,  begged 
him  to  save  her  innocent  child,  that  the  trial  she  knew  would  kill  her. 

"We  should  take  an  example  from  Lady  Clare  herself,  who  is  so 
conscious  of  her  own  innocence  that  she  does  not  shed  a  tear.  Did 
you  know  that  Lady  Elmer  offered  to  go  her  bail  for  twenty  thousand 
pounds?" 

"Do  not  speak  of  that  heartless  woman!  What  wrong  have  we  done 
her  that  she  should  throw  such  a  terrible  suspicion  on  my  darling 
child  ?" 

"It  was  all  done  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment.  Surely  no 
woman  in  her  heart  could  so  wish  to  injure  another." 

"Ah,  Sir  Francis,  you  do  not  know  women  yet  as  I  do.  I  have 
lived  in  this  world  sixty-five  years,  and  I  tell  you,  the  fury  of  wild 
beasts,  the  terror  of  the  tempest,  the  anger  of  man,  are  pleasant 
experiences  to  the  demoniac  passion  of  a  jealous  woman." 

Sir  Francis  knew  this  could  not  possibly  be  the  motive,  as  he  had 
hardly  spoken  to  the  Lady  Elmer.  But  Cubby  announced  the  carriage 
before  he  could  reply. 

Lady  Elmer  brought  Clare  to  her  mother.  She  had  been  uttering 
phrases  of  consolation,  but  Clare  had  replied  never  a  word. 

Sir  Francis  pressed  her  hand  tenderly,  as  he  helped  her  into  the 
carriage;  the  pressure  spoke  sympathy,  love,  and  belief  in  her  inno 
cence.  So  Clare  went  home  almost  happy,  thinking  that  the  morrow 
would  clear  up  the  mystery,  and  all  would  be  bright  again. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  133 


Chapter  III. 

What  is  so  impressive  as  an  English  court  of  justice?  The  scarlet 
and  black  robes,  the  ermine,  the  wigs,  the  dim  light,  the  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  necessities  of  the  trial;  no  flippant  lawyer  insulting  wit 
nesses,  to  show  to  the  world  his  wit;  no  ink-bottle  throwing,  or  cane- 
thrashing  as  occur  sometimes  in  enlightened,  deliberative  bodies.  All 
is  solemnity.  Once  seen,  it  is  a  picture  never  to  be  forgotten. 

The  massive  stone  building,  with  the  ever  memorable  name,  the 
street  itself,  calling  up  so  many  legends  of  the  past.  Romantic,  mel 
ancholy,  blood-stirring,  all  are  conducive  to  inspire  awe  as  you  approach, 
and  to  lower  your  voice  to  a  solemn  monotone,  as  you  enter  the  heavy 
doorway. 

Here  in  an  ante-room,  waiting  for  the  verdict,  were  many  relations 
and  servants  of  the  two  families,  and  nervous  friends  who  would  faint 
at  sight  of  all  the  paraphernalia  of  stern  justice.  Some  were  speaking 
in  little  groups  in  whispers,  some  sat  with  hands  folded,  and  dreamy 
eyes  gazing  into  vacancy. 

But  the  quiet  was  suddenly  disturbed  by  the  door  violently  opening, 
and  Lady  Ashley  Downington  entering  in  a  rage  followed  by  Jonquel 
carrying  her  inseparable  poodle,  and  Lord  Butterfly  bringing  up  the 
rear. 

"To   think   that   I    should  be  treated  so!     What  is  the   use  of  our 
Magna  Charta,   if    our  personal  liberty  is   to   be  so  interfered  with  ? 
Where  I  go,  Master  Pinkette  goes,   or  I'll  find   out   the  meaning     o 
British  liberty." 

"Yeth,  yeth,  ith   too  bad.     I  would  appeal  to  her  Gr  acious  Majesty.' 

"What  harm  did  the  dear   little   innocent    darling  do?     I'm    sure 


134  SECRETS   TOLD. 

they  ought  to  be  pleased  with  his  presence  as  a  contrast  where  there's 
so  much  guilt." 

"Yeth,  yeth;  that's  what  I  thay!"  and  Lord  Butterfly  laughed  in  a 
way  we  should  call — well,  rather  idiotic. 

"He  did  not  bark  even,  but  was  watching  proceedings  with  more 
interest  than  half  the  bipeds  there,  if  he  is  a  quadruped." 

"Yeth,  yeth;  he — he  looked  quite  withe!"  and  he  laughed  again. 

"The  Barbarians!  To  think  we  should  suffer  the  indignity  of — 
well,  to  put  it  in  the  politest  terms  possible,  the  effect  is  the  same — 
we  are  turned  out." 

"Yeth,  so  it  seems;"  and  he  consoled  her  with  the  peculiar  laugh. 

The  ladies  all  said  it  was  too  bad,  and  petted  and  caressed  Pinkette 
till  he  looked  sour.  For  quite  a  time  he  was  the  centre  of  interest, 
and  the  trial  was  forgotten.  Each  lady  that  owned  a  canine  pet,  told 
each  other  lady  of  its  pains  and  troubles  and  its  dear  cunning  little 
tricks;  and  several  fast  friendships  were  made  then  and  there,  by  rev 
elations  of  mutual  sympathy.  And  Lady  Downington  added  two 
more  names  to  her  visiting  list  for  the  same  reason. 

After  the  subject  was  fully  exhausted,  they  suddenly  became  inter 
ested  in  the  proceedings  of  the  trial. 

"Was  it  going  against  poor  Lady  Clare  ?"  asked  a  nervous  lady  friend  ? 

"Indeed  I  could  not  tell.  I  was  so  engaged  watching  my  little 
darling  here  I  had  no  eyes  or  ears  for  aught  else. " 

But  we  will  leave  these  people  of  petty  hearts  and  brains,  whose 
lives  are  made  up  of  twaddle  and  dogs,  whose  sluggish  blood  is  only 
stirred  by  danger  to  their  pets;  who  could  sympathize  with  the  stom 
ach-ache  of  a  poodle,  forgetting  that  the  hopes  of  a  human  life  were 
being  shattered,  and  that  a  mother's  heart  was  suffering  the  intense 
agony  a  mother  alone  can  feej. 

In  the  court  Lady  Clare,  pale  as  death,  stood  in  the  prisoner's  box, 
her  mother  as  near  her  as  allowed;  but,  oh,  how  changed!  Her  gray 


SECRETS   TOLD.  135 

ringlets  of  one  short  week  ago,  were  now  as  white  as  snow,  and  the 
lines  about  her  face  had  deepened  as  if  by  years  of  sorrow. 

Lady  Elmer,  with  a  face  almost  as  pale  as  Clare's,  listened  with  an 
intense  eagerness  to  every  word. 

The  clerk  called  in  that  peculiar  voice: 

"Prisoner  at  the  bar,  do  you  plead  guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

Clare  stood  up  and  replied  in  a  low  voice,    but  so  intense    that 
every  one  could  hear — yes,  and  feel  too. 

"Not  guilty!" 

"Policeman  No.   5 !"  called  the  clerk,  and  as  he  entered  the  box 
the  Queen's  counsel  began  his  questioning. 

"On  the  night  of  the  3d  of  June,  were  you  called  to  the  house  of 
Lord  Charles  Lucius  Dudley  in  your  official  capacity?" 

"I  was." 

"For  what  purpose  were  you  called  ?" 

"Lady  Elmer  Dudley  complained  of  being  robbed;  I  was  called  to 
detect  and  arrest  the  thief." 

"What  persons  were  present  at  the  time  ?" 

"Lady  Elmer  Dudley,    the  prisoner,    Sarah  Willet  and    Alphonse 
Cubby." 

"Whom  did  Lady  Elmer  Dudley  suspect  of  the  robbery  ?" 

"She  addressed  to  her  maid,  Sarah   Willet,  these  words:    'Willet, 
what  have  you  done  with  them  ?" 

Willet  could  not  sit  quiet  and  hear  this  imputation  on  her  character 
before  so  many  people,  so  jumping  up  she  said  quickly: 

"But  I  had  never  laid  my  fingers  on  them,  my  lord." 

"Silence  in  the  court!" 

"Were  the  actions  of  Sarah  Willet  suspicious  ?"  continued  the  coun 
sel. 

"Not   at  all,  my  lord;  she   turned    her  pockets    inside   out, ^  "and 
seemed  willing  and  anxious  to  prove  her  innocence." 


136  SECRETS   TOLD. 

'That  will  do." 

"Lady  Elmer  Dudley!"  called  the  clerk.  And  all  eyes  were  turned 
on  the  beautiful  lady,  who  seemed  to  suffer  for  her  friend  more  than 
she  did  for  herself. 

"On  the  night  of  June  the  3d  you  lost  some  valuable  diamonds; 
whom  did  you  suspect  of  the  theft?" 

"My  lord—" 

' 'PI ease  answer  the  court  direct." 

"Lady  Clare  De  Mille  and  myself  alone  were  present,"  and  she 
hung  her  head  as  if  in  deep  grief. 

"Had  the  prisoner  expressed  any  admiration  of  them  previously,  or 
showed  in  any  way  that  she  coveted  them  ?" 

"She  had  remarked  about  my  diamonds  sparkling  so  brightly,  that  I 
tried  them  in  her  ears;  looking  at  herself  in  the  glass,  she  said,  'they 
are  finer  than  any  I  possess/  " 

"When  did  you  miss  them  ?" 

"A  few  moments  afterward,  when  we  were  about  to  return  to  the 
ball  room." 

"That  will  do,  your  ladyship."  And  Elmer  bowed  and  returned  to 
her  place,  the  picture  of  a  witness  who  had  unwillingly  given  pain  to  a 
dear  friend. 

Again  the  policeman  was  called. 

"Did  the  prisoner  appear  willing  to  be  searched?" 

"She  declined,  saying  she  was  an  Earl's  daughter." 

"My  lord,  my  daughter  had  a  letter  in  her  pocket,  she  did  not  wish 
made  public;  it  was  a  proposal  of — " 

"Silence  in  the  court!" 

"Oh,  my  lord,  let  me  speak  for  my  child;  she  is  my  only  daughter, 
and  I  know  how  good  she  is." 

The  poor  mother  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  but  calmed  the  ex 
hibition  of  her  grief,  on  being  told  very  kindly  and  gently  by  an  officer 


SECRETS    TOLD.  137 

sent  by  the  Judge,  that  she  must  not  speak  in  court  unless  she  was 
questioned. 

"What  else  occured  on  the  night  aforesaid?" 

"Lady  Elmer  Dudley  seemed  most  anxious  that  I  should  leave  the 
house  remembering  that  the  prisoner  and  herself  alone  were  present. 
Sir  Francis  Hilton  threatened  me  with  personal  violence  should  I  per 
form  my  duty,  but  the  prisoner  calling  on  Heaven  to  witness  her  in 
nocence,  without  thinking,  pulled  her  handkerchief  from  her  pocket, 
and  the  diamonds  fell  on  the  floor!"  There  was  a  sensation  in  the 
court,  but  Willet  jumped  up  again,  saying  emphatically: 

"But  I  don't  believe  she  put  them  there." 

"Silence  in  the  court!"  and  the  irrepressible  Willet  sat  down  with  a 
jerk.  Sir  Francis  Hilton  was  called  as  the  next  witness,  and  it  was  a 
study  to  watch  the  faces  of  Clare  and  Elmer,  as  he  gave  his  testimony 
After  several  questions  he  was  asked  if  he  had  witnessed  the  falling  of 
^he  diamonds  from  the  prisoner's  handkerchief. 

"I  did,  but  believe  they  came  there  by  accident." 

"We  wish  facts,  and  not  opinions.  What  is  your  knowledge  of  the 
character  of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar?  Has  it  always  stood  well,  previously, 
for  honesty  ?" 

"I  will  cross  swords  with  you,  my  lord,  for  this  insult!"  He  grasped 
the  hilt  of  his  sword,  but  poor  Clare  cried  out: 

"Oh,  Sir  Francis,  speak  for  me  ;  tell  them  you  have  known  me 
since  a  little  child,  and  that  I  never,  in  thought,  word,  or  deed,  broke 
the  holy  eighth  commandment!"  Many  eyes  were  wet  with  tears,  and 
many  hearts  felt  pity  for  the  beautiful,  pale  Lady  Clare.  The  Judge 
asked  the  Queen's  counsel  if  he  had  any  more  witnesses  to  call. 

"None,  my  lord!"  But  Cubby  was  quite  disappointed  at  not  having 
the  notoriety  of  being  a  witness  in  this  case,  and  muttered  sotto  wee: 

"They  don't  ask  me  anything!"     The  Judge  then  said: 


138  SECRETS   TOLD. 

"The  case  for  the  prosecution  is  then  closed.  Counsel  for  the 
prisoner." 

Elmer  arose  in  agitation,  and  asked  in  a  seemingly  imploring  voice: 

"  My  Lord,  may  I  not  speak  for  my  friend  ?"  But  the  Judge  shook 
his  head,  and  Sir  Francis  arose  and  commenced  his  argument. 

'  'My  lord,  and  gentlemen,  it  is  with  intense  pain  that  I  see  so 
estimable  a  lady  injured  by  the  least  breath  of  such  a  foul  suspicion. 
For  those  who  know  her,  she  needs  no  defence.  Her  blameless  life, 
her  filial  love,  her  divine  charity,  give  a  verdict  in  her  favor  that  the 
opinion  of  no  jury  in  England  could  outweigh.  It  is  true  the  circum 
stances  of  the  case  appear  against  her,  but  let  us  pause  and  observe 
the  picture.  Two  ladies — friends — retire  for  a  few  moments  to  rest 
after  the  fatigue  of  the  dance;  with  girlish  playfulness  they  admire 
each  other's  jewelry,  seeing  if  this  or  that  is  becoming  to  them  ;  they 
are  standing  by  the  dressing  table  ;  the  earrings  are  placed  in  dainty 
ears  by  loving  fingers  ;  being  duly  admired,  the  fleecy  handkerchief  is 
laid  upon  the  table  while  the  earrings  are  withdrawn,  and  for  the  mo 
ment  quite  forgotten.  What  more  natural  than  that  the  slender 
golden  wires  should  catch  in  the  meshes  of  the  lace,  and  they  should 
find  themselves  where  their  presence  would  condemn  as  guilty  the 
most  innocent  of  women  ?  Their  owner,  in  the  first  anguish  of  their 
fancied  loss,  exclaiming  she  is  robbed  ! 

"  Now  let  us  reason  why  the  prisoner  should  not  commit  the  theft 
of  which  she  is  accused.  First,  had  she  desired  an  exact  counterpart 
of  the  earrings  belonging  to  her  friend,  she  had  only  to  mention  her 
wish  to  an  indulgent  mother ;  then  the  lady  herself  is  singularly  free 
from  the  little  vanities  of  her  sex.  Would  she  soil  the  escutcheon 
that,  since  the  founding  of  the  family,  has  been  unsullied,  for  the  grat 
ification  of  a  mere  whim  ? 

"  Brought  up  by  a  conscientious  mother,  she  has  been  taught  what 
is  due  to  Heaven  and  man.  Would  she  then  violate  every  right  of 


SECRETS    TOLD.  139 

sacred  hospitality  for  a  mere  bauble  ?  Look  at  the  lady  herself,  the 
picture  of  innocence,  grieved  to  the  heart  at  an  unjust  accusation  ! 
Look  at  the  mother,  bowed  down  with  anguish  that  none  but  a  mother 
can  know  !  What  can  compensate  her  for  her  sufferings  ?  Not  even 
the  hope,  nay,  the  certainty  of  the  speedy  relief  of  the  daughter  so 
loved,  so  prayed  for  !  My  lord,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  rest  the 
case  on  its  merits  alone,  beseeching  you  to  relieve  the  anguish  of  the 
mother  and  the  humiliation  of  the  daguhter,  as  quickly  as  human 
justice  will  permit  you."  Again  that  sensation  in  court  like  a  gentle 
breeze  passing  through  a  grove  on  a  Summer  day. 

The  Queen's  counsel  arose  : 

"  My  lord,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury  !"  Then  dropping  the  def 
erential  tone,  a  slight  smile  lit  up  his  face  and  a  tinge  of  sarcasm,  like 
a  thread,  was  interwoven  with  his  words.  "  My  learned  friend  has  de 
picted,  with  great  pathos,  the  sufferings  of  an  innocent  victim  !  Let 
us  turn  to  the  evidence  ;  that  must  be  our  guide  to  justice. 

"  Not  being  intimately  acquainted  with  the  prisoner,  I  cannot  affirm 
from  personal  knowledge,  as  my  learned  brother  does,  that  she  is 
singularly  free  from  the  vanities  of  her  sex.  Turning  to  the  evidence » 
we  find  that  the  looking  glass  was  the  same  to  her  as  to  the  rest  of 
Eve's  daughters ;  that  she  admired  trinkets  and  possessed  them,  and 
in  her  own  words  the  diamonds  of  her  friend  were  finer  than  any  she 
possessed;  that,  my  lord,  is  the  key  to  the  whole  transaction. 

"  Do  we  not  know  that  even  a  king  cannot  brook  a  rival  monarch's 
possessing  finer  jewels  than  himself  ? 

"The  refusal  to  be  searched — the  flimsy  excuse  of  the  letter,  the 
jewels  found  secreted  on  her  person,  is  prima  facie  evidence  of  her 
guilt.  Does  the  case  stand  so  isolated  and  alone  in  English  jurispru 
dence  that  it  has  no  counterpart  ?  Does  a  title  and  a  fortune  prevent 
crime  !  Alas,  our  records  say  no  ! 

"  What  is  it,  then,  so  calls  for  sympathy  in  the  prisoner's  case  ?  Had 


140  SECRETS    TOLD. 

it  been  one  of  the  people,  no  noble  lord  would  have  volunteered  his 
maiden  effort  in  her  defence  ;  had  it  been  one  of  the  people — one  of 
the  lower  class,  and  instead  of  diamonds  to  adorn  her  person,  it  had 
been  bread  to  fill  a  starving  mouth,  how  soon  would  the  floor  of  a 
prison  be  her  resting  place,  and  the  rats  and  spiders  her  companions  ? 
And  shall  this  prisoner  go  free  because  her  dress  is  silk  and  her  face  is 
fair,  when  neither  want  nor  poverty  tempted  her  ;  only  the  covetuous- 
ness  of  a  vain  heart  ? 

"  Do  not  let  justice  change  its  name  to  condemnation  for  the  half 
starved  poor,  and  acquittal  for  the  guilty  rich  !  I,  too,  my  lord,  rest 
the  case  on  its  merits  !" 

Clare  looked  like  one  stupified,  but  a  strange  gleam  shone  in  Elmer's 
eyes.  The  judge  then  rose  and  gave  his  charge  to  the  jury. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  we  are  here  as  Heaven's  ministers  of  jus 
tice!  Compassion,  pity,  personal  consideration,  must  not  influence 
your  decision.  Were  we  only  disciples  of  the  of  Goddess  Pity,  a 
woman's  tears,  a  mother's  prayers,  would  outweigh  all  other  consid 
erations  ;  but  stern  justice  must  be  blind  to  all  the  gentle  emotions. 

"If  the  evidence  in  the  case  points  to  the  prisoner  as  innocent,  your 
verdict  must  be  acquittal,  or  if  there  is  even  a  doubt  in  your  minds, 
the  verdict  must  be  for  acquittal.  But  if  you  believe,  and  agree,  that 
the  accused  did  purposely  and  feloniously  secrete  the  diamonds,  your 
verdict  must  be  for  condemnation  1"  Then  there  was  a  slight  buzz  all 
over  the  court,  then  silence. 

The  jury  consulted  together  without  leaving  their  box.  Clare 
seemed  to  listen  with  her  eyes.  After  a  pause  of  intense  anxiety,  the 
foreman  arose  and  delivered  the  verdict : 

"We,  the  jury,  after  carefully  considering  the  evidence  of  the  case, 
find  the  prisoner  guilty  of  the  charge  in  the  indictment  !" 

The  De  Mille  party  appeared  stunned.  The  Judge  then  addressed 
Clare  : 


SECRETS    TOLD.  141 

"Prisoner  at  the  bar,  stand  up.  Have  you  anything  to  say  against 
the  finding  of  the  jury  ?" 

Clare  arose,  trembling. 

lf  My  lord,  I  am  overwhelmed  with  surprise  and  confusion,  that  men 
who  profess  to  be  advocates  of  Heaven's  divine  justice,  should  count 
as  guilty  any  one,  no  matter  what  evidence  of  innocence  their  whole 
life  should  give,  who  is  only  suspected  of  a  crime.  Oh,  my  lord,  let 
my  mother's  tears  speak  for  me.  Have  mercy  !  have  mercy  !  or  you 
will  break  her  heart  !"  She  could  say  no  more,  but  sank,  weeping, 
into  her  seat,  and  the  Judge  gave  sentence. 

"  Prisoner,  the  high  position  you  hold,  the  purity  of  a  long  line  of 
ancestors,  your  wealth,  all  should  have  been  bars  to  your  committing 
such  a  disreputable  crime,  plunging  your  family  into  such  deep  grief. 
But  vanity  and  cupidity  proved  too  strong.  They  have  been  the  cause 
of  more  falls  from  virtue  than  poverty  and  hatred  combined.  As  a 
punishment  for  your  crime  and  to  deter  others  from  following  in  your 
steps  and  sharing  your  fate,  we  condemn  you  to  seven  years  of  servi 
tude  and  exile  in  the  Island  of  Australia  1" 

With  a  shriek,  Clare  fell  senseless  to  the  floor. 


Chapter  IV. 

Six  months  had  passed  since  Lady  Clare  had  been  sent  to  Australia. 
No  efforts  had  been  spared  to  obtain  her  release,  but  all  were  unavail 
ing. 

Lady  Elmer  was  gayer  than  ever.  She  seemed  to  seek  excitement 
with  a  feverish  eagerness  that  acquaintances  thought  heartlessness,  but 
friends  considered  the  strivings  of  a  tender  nature  to  momentarily  for 
get  the  pain  caused  by  a  friend's  sufferings — sufferings,  too,  she  had 
apparently  tried  so  perseveringly  to  alleviate. 


142  SECRETS    TOLD. 

One  morning,  Willet  was  clipping  the  dead  leaves  from  the  vines  in 
a  hanging  basket  in  the  morning  room.  She  was  standing  on  a  table 
with  the  morning  paper  under  her  feet,  and  she  thus  gave  vent  to  her 
thoughts: 

"Well,  some  people  can  clip,  and  clip  away  at  their  consciences 
just  as  I  clip  these  vines,  and  it  don't  seem  to  hurt  them  a  bit — more 
contrary- wise,  they  thrive  on  the  treatment,  just  as  these  vines  do.  Six 
months  ago  my  lady's  dearest  friend  was  sent  to  that  dreadful  Austra 
lia,  yet  she  now  lives  in  a  perfect  whirligig  of  pleasure  and  excitement; 
but  when  she  comes  home  at  night,  or  rather  in  the  morning,  and 
throws  off  her  beautiful  clothes,  she  looks  so  pale  and  haggard,  that 
my  heart  really  aches  for  her;  and  I  wonder  why  she  goes  out  so  much 
if  it  makes  her  feel  so  bad,  when  her  friend's  in  such  sad  trouble  ?" 
She  got  down  from  the  table  and  surveyed  her  work  critically,  even  if 
she  was  thinking  of  something  else. 

"  Then,  too,  why  does  Sir  Francis  come  here  so  much  ?  'Tain't 
as  a  lover,  for  he's  so  cautious  like;  but  my  lady's  desparately  in  love 
with  him;  she  couldn't  hide  it  from  a  cat!"  Then  she  gaped  and 
looked  around  for  the  most  comfortable  place  to  take  a  rest.  The 
room  was  exquisitely  furnished,  with  all  the  taste  of  a  passionate,  edu 
cated  woman;  furnished,  too,  to  harmonize  with  her  clear,  dark  beau 
ty,  and  to  form  a  fitting  background  for  the  picture  she  made  when 
she  entered  it. 

"Heigh-ho!"  and  she  sank  down  in  a  crimson  satin  easy  chair, 
with  a  great  deal  of  lazy  pleasure.  "  I'm  a  little  '  onweed '  myself, 
with  so  much  gaiety.  My  lady  won't  ring  for  some  time,  so  I'll  regale 
myself  with  a  little  intellectual  food."  So  she  took  the  paper  and  be 
gan  at  the  top.  '"Bonnets  from  Paris.'  I  don't  want  any.  'Im 
mense  sacrifice  of  dry  goods.'  Sacrifices  ahead,  it  doesn't,  interest  me. 
'  Murder  of  a  young  lady  by  her  lover.'  Ah!  that's  interesting. 
What's  this  just  after  the  murder.  '  Departure  of  Sir  Francis  Hilton 


SECRETS   TOLD.  143 

for  Ausralia.'  Oho!  what's  up?  A  rescue  I  shouldn't  wonder. 
How  romantic !"  She  had  her  back  to  the  door,  with  her  feet  stretched 
out  on  an  ottoman;  she  had  a  small  foot  and  rather  liked  to  look  at 
her  pretty  slippers;  but  Lady  Elmer  had  entered,  and  walking  across 
the  room  stood  in  front  of  her  before  she  noticed  her  presence,  then 
she  jumped  up  confused  and  blushing. 

"  Beg  pardon  my  lady;  I  did  not  know  you  were  stirring,  but 
thought  as  you  wouldn't  want  me  for  a  short  time  I'd  rest  a  bit  and 
read  the  news.  Look  what  I  saw — '  Departure  of  Sir  Francis  Hilton 
for  Austrailia!' " 

"Where?  Let  me  see  it  quick !"  and  she  grasped  the  paper  with 
an  eagerness  that  did  not  at  all  surprise  the  far-seeing  Willet. 

"  There,  next  to  the  interesting  murder  of  a  young  lady."  She 
motioned  for  Willet  to  leave  the  room.  She  read  the  brief  announce 
ment  and  it  seemed  to  rack  her  very  soul. 

"What  does  it  mean?  Is  he  going  there  to  release  her.  Have  I 
sacrificed  peace  and  happiness,  and  imperiled  my  soul's  salvation,  to 
be  as  far  from  the  fulfillment  of  my  wishes,  as  when  I  was  innocent  ? 
I  must  prevent  his  going,  but  how  ?  My  terrible  love  has  not  been 
rewarded  by  one  kind  word,  so  what  influence  can  I  bring  to  bear 
sufficiently  powerful  to  compel  him  to  change  his  determination  ? 
What  a  weak  thing  is  a  woman!  Weak  in  a  thousand  ways,  having 
the  will  so  strong  yet  powerless  to  execute." 

Here  Willet  knocked  at  the  half  open  door,  but  Elmer  not  noticing 
it,  she  put  her  head  in  and  said: 

"Lady  Ashley  Downington  is  in  the  blue  parlor." 

"Must  I  endure  that  tedious  old  woman  when  my  brain  is  on  fire 
to  be  at  work?  But  Lady  Ashley  had  followed  Willet,  considering 
herself  a  privileged  friend,  and  entered  a  moment  after  she  was  an 
nounced  as  being  in  the  blue  parlor.  She  was  old  and  eccentric,  and 
led  her  beloved  "Pinkette"  a  rather  pretty  white  poodle,  by  blue  and 


144  SECRETS    TOLD. 

red  ribbons.  In  her  actions  she  was  a  youthful  old  lady,  and  talked 
quite  gushingly. 

"My  dear  Elmer,  I  knew  after  our  conversation  last  night  that  you 
would  be  as  anxious  to  see  me  as  I  am  to  see  you,  so  I  did  not  wait 
for  ceremony,  hoping  to  catch  you  in  delightful  dishabille,  so  that  I 
could  tell  his  lordship  that  beauty  unadorned  is  adorned  the  most; 
really  and  truly  in  your  case — well,  how  d'ye  do?  You  may  kiss  me 
on  the  left  cheek,  but  respect  the  rouge,  dear." 

Elmer  shook  her  hand,  but  scarcely  touched  her  cheek  with  her 
lips,  she  was  so  annoyed.  Then  she  asked  her  to  sit  down,  which  she 
did,  taking  the  dog  on  her  lap. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  well,  after  the  gaieties  of  last  night." 

"Well  ?  I  was  never  better  in  all  my  life.  I  shall  outwear  a  dozen 
of  you  young  people  yet!  And  wasn't  the  ball  last  night  a  magnificent 
success!  and  the  dresses!  but  your's  was  the  loveliest  in  the  room — so  I 
told  Lord  Butterfly — you  see  I  call  him  Butterfly,  because  he  always 
wears  such  loves  of  neckties!  'Butterfly,'  said  I,  'Look  at  Lady  Elmer 
Dudley;  she  is  dressed  the  loveliest  and  in  the  most  recherche  taste  of 
any  lady  in  the  room. '  " 

"Indeed  you  were  very  complimentary,  Lady  Downington;  I  sup 
pose  I  ought  to  be  grateful." 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear — you  see  I  want  the  excitement  of  a  little 
match-making,  and  I  know  of  no  two  people  in  the  United  Kingdom, 
so  suited  to  each  other  as  your  sweet  ladyship  and  my  Butterfly.  He's 
a  perfect  Monte  Cristo  for  wealth!  and  how  you  could  spend  it!  A 
villa  on  the  Rhine,  dear,  and  every  Summer  a  little  ecarte  at  that  de 
lightful  Baden-Baden  !  Then,  too,  the  poor  fellow  is  desperately  in 
love.  I  boldly  accused  him  of  it  last  night,  and  he  replied,  '  Pon 
honor  now ;  ah !  really  !  So  you  see  you  have  only  to  smile  upon  him 
to  be  one  of  the  very  richest  ladies  of  England." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  145 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  I  shall  remain  Elmer  Dudley  many  years  to 
come." 

"  Oh !  don't  !  for  an  old  maid  with  a  dozen  pet  cats  is  abominable  !" 
Elmer  could  not  help  smiling,  and  pointing  to  the  dog,  said  : 

"Would  a  dozen  King  Charles'  make  it  any  better?" 

"Ah!  that  is  very  different!  But  maiden  ladies  rarely  take  to  them. 
By  the  way,  don't  you  think  Pinkette  is  looking  very  miserable  ?  Doc 
tor  Take-all-De-Tour  has  been  his  physician  for  six  months,  but  if  he 
does  not  improve  shortly  under  his  treatment,  I  shall  really  have  to 
send  to  the  Continent  for  help,  or  take  him  there  myself.  Poor  little 
darling,  your  eyes  look  so  dull  to-day!"  and  she  patted  his  head;  but 
he  whined  and  barked  so  that  she  was  frightened.  "Listen!  I  know 
that  he  is  taken  worse!"  Then  turning  to  Willet,  she  said:  My  good 
girl,  won't  you  call  my  footman?" 

"Yes,  my  lady;"  then  she  added  aside:  "I  wouldn't  own'a  dog," 
and  went  on  her  errand.  Elmer  was  patting  her  foot  impatiently,  and 
muttered  under  her  breath:  "That  I  should  be  annoyed  thus!" 

"Don't  you  pity  me  my  sweet  Elmer  ?  Why  should  he  get  ill  ?  He 
has  lived  on  nothing  but  fruit  cake  and  delicacies  for  the  year  past." 

"You  had  better  show  him  to  the  doctor  yourself  immediately,  and 
let  him  prescribe  his  food."  Here  Willet  showed  in  the  footman,  a 
tall,  sedate  looking  personage,  who  looked  more  fit  for  taking  orders 
than  taking  care  of  dogs. 

"Do  you  think  so  ?  As  you  are  so  very  kind,  I  know  you  will  pity 
my  distress,  and  allow  Doctor  De-Tour  to  attend  him  here;  it  is  so  much 
nearer  than  Castle  Place."  Elmer  bit  her  lip  till  the  blood  came, 
"Jonquil!" 

"My  Lady!" 

.     "Tell  my  coachman  to  drive  as  fast  as  possible  to  Doctor  De  Tour's, 
Swiss  Cottage;  you  know  the  place,  and  bring  him  here  immediately." 

"Yes,  my  Lady!" 


146  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"Tell  him  to  bring  his  case  of  instruments  and  chloroform."  Then 
turning  to  Elmer:  "There  might  have  to  be  some  blood  letting.  You 
know,  my  dear,  that  Tinkette'  and  myself  would  both  have  to  be  put 
under  its  influence,  for  I  certainly  should  faint  to  see  the  darling  suffer. " 

'  'What  a  pity  you  have  no  children." 

"Oh,  I  have,  my  dear!  but  they  never  cause  me  the  anxiety  that 
this  poor  helpless  darling  does.  And  Jonquil,  bring  him  a  pate  defoie 
gras\  the  poor  pet  may  need  to  eat  after  his  medicine.  Quick,  Jon 
quil." 

"Yes  my  lady;"  and  the  tall  man  bent  his  back  like  a  hinge  and 
withdrew,  Willet  courtesying  coquettishly,  but  unavailingly,  to  him. 

"How  I  envy  you,  Elmer;  your  mind  so  free  from  the  terrible 
anxieties  that  I  suffer.  No  sleepless  nights,  and  loss  of  morning  naps, 
no  nightmare  of  poor  suffering  canines,  nothing  to  think  of  but  the 
latest  novel  and  newest  bonnet;"  and  she  petted  and  caressed  her  dog 
and  was  oblivious  to  aught  else.  Elmer,  who  had  torn  a  beautiful 
bouquet  to  pieces  that  stood  on  the  table  near  her,  walked  to  the 
window  and  muttered: 

"  Did  she  but  know  my  terrible  sufferings!  but  could  a  young 
loving  heart  ever  have  beaten  in  that  withered  bosom  ?  Why  does 
she  not  go?  Oh!  how  I  suffer!"  and  she  threw  herself  impatiently  on 
a  sofa. 

"  I  think  he  is  slightly  better.     Oh!  I  am  so  thankful!" 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  Willet,  throwing  up  her  hands  in  disgust. 
But  the  bell  rang  and  she  left  the  room." 

"  I  hope  that  is  Doctor  Take-all-De-Tour." 

"  I  trust  it  is;v  and  she  added  in  thought,  "and  that  I  shall  soon 
be  rid  of  you  and  your  puerile  sorrows." 

Jonquil,  carrying  a  case  of  instruments,  bowed  in  Doctor  De-Tour. 
Fussy  and  the  Frenchiest  of  French,  with  a  dancing  master's  step,  and 
an  opera  singer's  shoulder  shrug. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  147 

"Jonquil  here,  he  tell  me  you  want  me  immediate  forle  jolichien," 
Then  seeing  Elmer  he  bowed  low.  "Bon  jour,  madam!"  She 
scarcely  noticed  him.  "Bon  jour  ma  ladi!"  this  to  Lady  Ashley,  who 
was  too  occupied  to  return  his  salutation. 

"Wat  has  de  leetle  dog?"  and  he  took  his  paw  and  felt  his  pulse 
with  all  becoming  gravity.  "Von  large  fevar." 

"Oh!  doctor,  give  him  the  pleasantest  medicine  possible.  I  would 
rather  pay  two  fees  for  a  bread  pill,  provided  it  cured  poor  'Pinkette,' 
than  have  him  dosed  with  something  unpleasant  to  take."  But  the 
doctor  still  held  his  paw,  and  took  out  his  watch  to  count  his  pulse. 
Elmer  looked  on  with  contempt,  but  Lady  Ashley  was  all  anxiety. 

"What  can  you  do  for  him,  dear  doctor?" 

"Ma  ladi,  him  pulse  beatvar  quick;  von,  two,  tree,  four  hundred 
times  in  von  sixty  second." 

"Poor  darling !  what  shall  we  do  for  him?" 

"Ma  ladi,  you  take  him  home — "  Elmer  looked  thankful — "and 
soak  him  four  feet  in  varm  vater,  then  give  him  some  medicine  vat  I 
sail  rite;  put  him  in  his  leetle  bed,  make  no  much  noise,  and  in  de 
morning  he  vill  be  veil." 

"Oh!  doctor,  I  am  so  thankful  that  you  may  kiss  my  hand!"  And 
as  he  did  so,  she  dropped  a  purse  into  his  hand. 

"Merci,  ma  lady!"  Then  he  wrote  a  perscription,  and  gave  her. 
"Bon  jour,  madame!  I  have  von  thousand  and  von  visit  to  make  to-day. 
Bon  jour!"  and  he  bowed  himself  out.  Jonquil  took  him  his  case, 
and  returned  with  a  covered  dish. 

"My  lady,  here  is  the  patty  foi  gras.     He  had  not  studied  French. 

Willet  was  near  the  door,  and  she  said: 

"All  this  ado  about  a  dog!  Why,  she  couldn't  make  more  fuss  if  it 
had  been  a  handsome  young  man." 

"I  am  .sorry  'Pinkette'  should  have  been  so  inconvenient,  dear 
Elmer;  good-by." 


148  SECRETS   TOLD. 

"Good  morning,  Lady  Downington;  I  trust  your  terrible  anxiety 
will  soon  be  over."  But  Lady  Ashley  did  not  notice  the  sarcasm,  and 
warmly  shook  her  hand. 

"Thank  you,  dear."  She  tenderly  placed  the  dog  in  Jonquil's  arms, 
then  turning  again  to  Elmer  said  with  her  former  gaiety:  "But  please 
don't  forget  Butterfly,  Rich  as  Croesus,  and  desperately  in  love."  And 
at  last  she  went  away  followed  by  Jonquil  carrying  the  dog  as  if  it  had 
been  the  tenderest  and  most  precious  thing  in  the  world;  this  time  he 
bowed  stiffly  to  Wil  let's  coquetting. 

"Gone!  What  a  relief!  Oh!  that  I  were  like  her;  could  amuse 
myself  with  a  poor  dog,  and  forget  my  grief." 

"My  lady,  isn't  her  ladyship  queer  ?  Oh!  I  wouldn't  be  waiting 
maid  to  her  for  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies!  What  with  tending  her 
dog,  and  feeding  her  dog,  and  most  likely  rocking  it  to  sleep,  a  poor 
girl's  life  would  be  worn  out." 

"You  are  with  me,  let  that  content  you.  Bring  me  my  desk. 
What — what  can  I  do  to  prevent  his  going?"  Willet  brought  the 
desk,  and  she  sat  and  thought;  but  her  face  soon  brightened  as  if  the 
thought  she  wanted  had  come,  and  she  wrote  rapidly. 

"  I  wonder  what's  the  matter  now  ?"  said  Willet.  "  Oh,  this  love, 
but  it  does  make  a  goose  of  one!" 

"  Take  this  to  Sir  Francis  Hilton;  lose  no  time!" 

"  Yes,  my  lady — but  she's  impatient,"  and  she  left  the  room. 

Lady  Elmer  raised  her  hands  to  Heaven  as  if  imploring  a  blessing, 
but  her  words  were: 

"  Oh!  desparate  woman's  guardian  spirit,  assist  me  now." 


Chapter  V. 

.    Sir  Francis  Hilton  was  impatiently  pacing   his  chambers,  waiting 
for  the  earliest  moment  he  would  be  allowed  on  the  ship.     He  looked 


SECRETS    TOLD.  149 

pale  and  care-worn,  and  several  years  older  than   he  did  on  the  night 
of  the  ball,  and  had  he  spoken  his  thoughts  they  would  have  been — ' 

"  This  terrible  uncertainty  is  wearing  my  life  away.  No  answer  to 
all  my  letters,  save  a  few  words  that  while  her  name  rested  under  this 
dark  cloud,  it  was  better  not  to  correspond;  and  that  till  she  was  de 
clared  innocent,  I  should  be  free.  And  what  is  free  ?  To  be  unfet 
tered  by  a  promise,  yet  to  be  bound  heart  and  soul  by  love  ?  To  wan 
der  for  months,  heartsick  and  weary,  leaving  nothing  unattempted  to 
obtain  her  release,  yet  all  in  vain  ?  To  be  thousands  of  miles  away — 
cruel  seas  and  more  cruel  laws  dividing  us  ?  Is  this  freedom  ?  But 
to-day  my  heart  feels  lighter,  for  the  good  ship  Britannia  shall 
quickly  bear  me  across  the  unkind  miles,  then  at  least  I  can  see  her 
again;  there  is  happiness  in  the  very  thought." 

Cubby  knocked  at  the  door,  then  announced  Lady  De  Mille.  Sir 
Francis  kissed  her  hand,  and  called  her  "mother." 

"  My  son!"  and  she  embraced  him;  "for  have  you  not  been  a  son 
to  me  since  my  poor  Clare  went  away  ?  I  was  so  impatient  to  send 
my  child  these  litiie  mementoes  and  my  blessing,  that  I  could  not 
wait  for  you  to  come;''  and  she  gave  him  a  beautiful  inlaid  casket  or 
box  with  a  little  key  tied  to  it. 

"  My  mother,  would  that  I  could  take  you  with  me.  How  her 
heart  would  bound  with  joy!" 

"  Only  for  her  express  wish  that  I  should  remain  and  see  her 
brother  on  his  return  from  India,  nothing  but  death  could  separate  us.» 
Tell  her  he  will  soon  be  here,  then,  if  we  cannot  obtain  her  release 
we  will  both  come  to  her." 

"  Next  to  her  release  it  would  be  the  happiest  news  I  could  bring 
her." 

"  Tell  her  that  I,  her  poor  bereaved  mother,  bade  her  be  of  good 
cheer;  that  nightly  my  prayers  ascend  to  Heaven  for  her  welfare. 
Tell  her  for  my  sake  to  be  as  happy  as  she  can,  remembering  her 


150  SECRETS   TOLD. 

pwn  innocence,  and  that  nothing  can  shake  our  faith  in  her.  Heaven 
grant  yo'u  a  safe  and  speedy  voyage,  and  a  happy  meeting  with  my 
Clare!  Good-by!  my  heart  is  so  full  that  I  must  go  and  weep." 

"Good-by  my  mother;  I  will  remember  all  your  loving  messages!" 
And  he  kissed  her  forehead  and  led  her  gently  to  her  carriage.  A 
moment  after  he  returned,  Cubby  again  knocked,  and  being  told  to 
come  in  said: 

"  My  lord,  there  is  a  young  person  below,  who  says  she  must  see 
Sir  Francis  Hilton  personally." 

"  I  am  in  great  haste;  what  can  she  want  ?" 

"She  did  not  say,  my  lord." 

"  Then  show  her  up  immediately,  for  I  cannot  waste  a  moment.  I 
must  not  be  detained  for  I  have  some  business  to  attend  to  before  I 
leave  England !"  Cubby  showed  up  Willet,  and  bowing  to  her  very 
ceremoniously  left  the  room. 

Willet  courtesied  and  said: 

"  My  lady  sends  you  this  letter,  my  lord,  in  great  haste." 

"  What  is  your  lady's  name  ?" 

"  Lady  Elmer  Dudley."  Sir  Francis  for  reply  thrust  the  letter 
angrily  into  his  pocket. 

"  Is  there  any  answer,  my  lord." 

4 '  None !"  and  he  walked  to  the  window. 

"Well,  his  lordship  isn't  very  polite!  My  lady  wouldn't  feel  flat 
tered  if  she  knew  how  he  treated  her  letter!"  Then  aloud  to  Cubby, 
who  reappeared  at  the  door,  ignoring  their  former  acquaintance: 

"Young  man,  show  me  out." 

41 1  will  with  pleasure,  your  ladyship!" 

"  I  suppose  you  think  you  are  very  killing,  Mr.  Cubby  ?" 

"  Oh!  no;  I  am  not  a  butcher  to  kill  a  lamb — a  catamount?" 

"Umph!"  and  Willet  flounced  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  Cubby, 
who  enjoyed  her  little  display  of  temper. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  151 

"What  can  she  want  with  me ?  I  suppose  I  must  read  her  letter;" 
and  Sir  Francis  unwillingly  read: 

"MY  GOOD  FRIEND:  I  am  compelled  to  go  in  haste  to  Australia, 
on  business  that  I  must  attend  to  personally.  I  am  so  glad  to  have 
the  opportunity  of  going  in  the  same  ship  with  a  friend.  I  bring  my 
maid  and  every — "  he  crushed  the  letter  back  into  his  pocket, 
* '  What  takes  her  to  Australia  ?  Is  it  another  plot  against  the  Lady 
Clare,  or  does  she  take  this  opportunity  of  seeing  and  asking  the  for 
giveness  of  the  gentle  being  she  has  so  deeply  wronged?  How  shall 
I  endure  a  long  voyage  with  a  woman  who  strangely  repels  yet  terribly 
attracts  and  fascinates  me  to  her,  as  a  serpent  would  ?  As  I  cannot 
prevent  her  going,  I  will  watch  her  every  action.  I  suppose  I  must 
answer  her  letter.''  And  he  sat  down  to  his  desk,  and  spreading  out 
the  crumpled  note  finished  reading  it. 


Chapter  VI. 

The  ship  Britannia  had  just  left  the  dock,  and  all  was  bustle  and 
confusion;  the  captain  giving  orders  to  the  mate,  the  sailors  setting 
sails,  pulling  ropes,  and  singing  lively,  inspiring  tar  songs,  that  one 
never  hears  but  on  a  sailing  vessel.  Nearly  all  the  passengers  were 
waving  handkerchiefs.  Sir  Francis  was  leaning  pensively  on  the  bul 
warks  thinking. 

"  The  white  cliffs  of  England  will  soon  disappear.  Oh!  my  dear 
country,  shall  I  return  to  you  a  happy  man,  or  as  a  heart  broken  son 
to  his  mother  to  die  and  be  forgotten!"  Lady  Elmer  came 
to  his  side,  and  said  gently: 

"  Sad  so  soon,  Sir  Francis  ?  How  will  you  endure  these  long 
months  of  ocean  life  ?" 

41 1  shall  become  accustomed  to,  and  perhaps  enjoy  it  in  a  few  days." 


152  SECRETS   TOLD. 

Then  he  turned  and  spoke  to  the  captain,  and  Elmer  saying  "  I  hope 
so,"  walked  a  little  distance,  and  looked  toward  shore  through  her 
opera  glass. 

Willet  stopped  waving  her  handkerchief  suddenly  and  began  to  cry. 
Cubby  watched  her  for  a  few  moments.  "  Well,  I  can't  watch  this 
long,"  he  thought.  "  Lovely  woman  in  distress  would  melt  the  flintiest 
heart."  Then  going  to  her  he  said  gently:  "  Willet!"  But  she 
cried  the  louder.  "  What's  the  matter  Willet?  What  is  it,  dear  Wil 
let  ?"  and  he  pulled  the  handkerchief  from  her  eyes. 

"To  think  that — I  had-  to  leave  England— for  so  many  months — 
without  having  time  to — to — " 

"  To  what,  dear  Willet  ?" 

"  To — to — "  still  she  cried. 

"  To  bid  your  mother  good-by  ?" 

«  No— to— " 

"To  see  your  sister  ?" 

"  No!  to  buy  a  new  bonnet!"  and  she  left  him,  crying  angrily. 

"Tut!  tut!  tut!"  and  he  went  to  another  part  of  the  deck  in  dis 
gust.  Willet  wiped  her  eyes  with  a  great  deal  of  show,  and  sniffling  a 
little  went  up  to.  Elmer  and  said: 

"  Do  you  think  you  will  like  this  old  ship,  my  Lady  ?     I  shan't!" 

"  It  will  be  very  pleasant  after  a  few  days,  if  we  have  no  storms." 
Again  she  turned  and  looked  through  her  glasses. 

"  Umph!  I  suppose  it  will  for  her,  with  the  one  she  loves  in  the 
same  house  with  her,  as  it  were,  and  no  rival  near."  And  she  watched 
Elmer  as  she  lingered  near  Sir  Francis,  and  saw  him  introduce  her  to 
the  captain.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  caught  him  after  all.  I  sup 
pose  I  must  make  friends  with  that  Cubby,  or  it  will  be  dreadful  lonely 
to  have  no  one  to  talk  to." 

The  captain  ordered  lunch  to  be  brought  to  his  cabin,  then  turning 
to  Elmer,  said: 


SECRETS    TOLD.  153 

"  Lady  Dudley,  I  have  a  very  fine  chart  of  the  route  we  will  take. 
My  Lord,  will  you  accompany  us  to  my  cabin,  and  I  will  explain  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  thank  you !"  said  Elmer,  pleased  to  be  brought  into  such 
close  company  with  Sir  Francis. 

What  woman  but  thinks,  give  her  the  time  and  opportunity,  that 
she  can  bring  any  man  to  her  feet  ?  And  they  are  nearly  right,  too. 

Sir  Francis  felt  he  must  accept  the  invitation  though  he  would  much 
rather  have  remained  alone,  with  his  thoughts  for  company. 

The  Captain  offered  his  arm  to  Elmer  and  they  all  went  into  his 
cabin. 

The  Captain's  cabin  is  always  a  cosy,  comfortable  spot,  easy  chairs 
and  sofas,  pictures,  books,  fine  wines,  and  lots  of  nice  little  things  hid 
away;  curiosities,  fruits  and  nuts.  It  breaks  the  monotony  of  a  long 
voyage  to  be  friends  with  the  captain.  Oh  !  the  sea  yarns  he  can  tell  ! 
Sinbad's  adventures  are  scarcely  more  wonderful  than  stories  I've  heard 
these  captains  relate. 

Willet  began  to  experience  she  was  not  on  shore. 

"I — I  begin  to  feel  very  faint.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  help  me 
to  the  cabin,  Mr.  Cubby?  I  fear  I'm  not  a  sailor." 

"Oh!  don't  give  up  so  soon." 

"I  can't  help  it;"  and  they  walked  to  the  steps  leading  to  the  cabin. 
"I'm  so  faint." 

This  was  the  first  time  either  of  them  had  been  to  sea,  and  the  ex 
perience  is  not  always  quite  pleasant;  so  it  was  not  surprising  that 
Cubby  suddenly  clapped  his  hands  on  his  stomach,  and  exclaimed, 
looking  pretty  pale:  "Oh,  dear!  and  I'll  keep  you  company."  And 
they  neither  of  them  reappeared  that  day. 

A  long  voyage  on  a  sailing  vessel  makes  a  little  isolated  world  of 
the  travelers.  Who  that  has  ever  taken  one,  can  forget  the  friendships 
formed,  the  amusements,  the  little  weekly  paper,  the  concerts,  the 
many  incidents,  each  one  a  picture  painted  in  indellible  colors  on  the 


154  SECRETS   TOLD. 

memory?  Many  a  heart,  too,  has  found  its  mate,  in  those  romantic 
days,  watching  the  ever-changing  sea  and  sky;  so  few  to  disturb  the 
fancy,  that  the  one  present  seems  the  acme  of  perfection.  It  is  so 
hard  to  choose,  when  all  the  world  is  open  to  our  hand;  like  the 
dame  who  turns  away  and  sighs  at  all  the  costly  fabrics  at  her  feet, 
not  knowing  what  to  choose;  give  the  same  dame  a  choice  of  two, 
and  it  is  quickly  made. 

So  our  little  world,  the  Britannia,  moved  on  to  Australia. 


Chapter   VII. 

The  day  the  ship  arrived,  .Clare  was  at  her  work  in  the  large  lace 
factory  attached  to  the  prison. 

No  magnetic  influence  told  her  of  the  nearness  of  her  lover.  This 
second  sight,  as  it  were,  this  mind-reading,  and  will-compelling  is  very 
rare,  and  those  who  possess  these  qualities  are  by  no  means  the  pleas- 
antest  of  companions. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  neat,  gray  merino,  with  white  collar  and  cuffs, 
and  her  beautiful  hair  put  back  in  a  wavy  roll.  She  was  a  picture  as  she 
stopped  for  a  moment,  the  sunlight  from  the  high  window  just  gilding 
her  hair,  leaving  her  face  in  the  shadow.  Her  head  drooped  as  she 
thought  : 

"How  wearily  the  time  passes!  Will  the  seven  years  never  be 
over  ?  Must  the  sweetest  portion  of  my  youth  be  passed  thus  ? 
Weave,  weave,  as  if  I  were  destiny  weaving  the  fate  of  mortals!  My 
mother,  too,  though  her  letters  try  so  hard  to  cheer  me,  yet  I  see  the 
tears  beneath  her  kindest  words.  And  Sir  Francis!  Oh!  I  must  not 
think  of  him  till  a  prison  ceases  to  be  my  home !"  She  turned  quickly 
to  her  work,  and  sought  in  it  oblivion  from  distressing  thoughts. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  155 

The  keeper  entered  with  a  gentleman. 

"This  is  the  lace  factory,"  he  said.     Clare  raised  her  eyes. 

"Clare!" 

"Sir  Francis!"  and  he  went  quickly  toward  her. 

"No  communication  with  the  prisoners,  my  lord." 

"Oh!"  and  Clare  dropped  her  head,  weeping  and  humiliated. 

'  'Elmer,  who  had  been  detained  a  moment  at  the  door,  now  entered. 
She  saw  Clare  at  once,  and  going  toward  her,  exclaimed: 

"My  dear  friend !" 

"Lady  Elmer!"  The  tone  was  that  of  surprise,  just  touched  with 
horror. 

"Your  ladyship  must  excuse  me,  but  you  must  not  speak  to  the 
prisoners  without  a  permit." 

"Is  that  the  rule,  sir?" 

"It  is,  my  lady." 

"I  am  so  sorry,  for  she  is  my  friend;  but  I  will  see  the  Governor 
to-day."  She  took  Sir  Francis'  arm,  and  his  face  showed  the  annoy 
ance  he  felt.  The  keeper  explained  the  uses  of  the  different 
machines,  but  Sir  Francis  turned  a  yearning  look  to  Clare,  then 
they  moved  farther  away,  and  some  machinery  intervening,  she  was 
shut  from  his  view. 

"Oh!  why  are  they  here?  Not  with  my  release,  or  they  would 
have  been  allowed  to  speak  to  me.  She  holds  his  arm  so  lovingly — 
are  they  married  ?  No,  or  he  would  not  have  greeted  me  as  he  did 
just  now.  Oh!  what  can  it  mean?"  They  came  into  view  again, 
and  she  watched  them  eagerly.  Just  then  the  Governor  entered,  and 
Sir  Francis,  after  bowing,  introduced  him  to  Elmer. 

"Ah!  the  Governor!  Sir  Francis  speaks  to  him.  He  may  yet  obtain 
my  release!  Oh!  the  joy  would  be  too  great!" 

' '  Lady  Elmer,  one  moment  if  you  please."  Bowing  she  passed 
further  on,  and  appeared  to  be  deeply  interested  in  the  keeper's  ex- 


156  SECRETS   TOLD. 

planations.  "  My  lord,  that  lady,"  and  he  pointed  to  Clare,  "  is  a 
friend  of  mine.  Did  you  read  the  trial  ?" 

"  I  do  not  remember." 

"Then  I  will  give  you  a  brief  description." 

He  told  him  of  the  pretended  robbery  and  trial,  and  used  his  best 
arguments  to  impress  him  favorably.  The  Governor  appeared  struck 
with  a  sudden  resolution. 

"  My  lord,  if  I  undertake  to  obtain  her  release,  it  is  necessary  I 
should  have  a  private  interview  with  her.  If  I  can  do  so,  she  shall 
come  to  England  as  soon  as  possible,  accompanied  by  a  suitable  com 
panion;"  and  the  Governor  drew  him  farther  away  from  Clare. 

"  But  surely,  after  coming  thousands  of  weary  miles,  I  must  not 
leave  her  without  a  farewell  word. 

"  Would  not  her  release  reward  you  for  all  your  pains  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  thousand  times;  but  her  gentle  heart  would  be  cruelly 
wounded." 

"Let  me  explain  ?"  and  he  took  him  out  of  hearing  of  the  others. 

"  Gone!  without  a  word!  has  he  ceased  to  love  me?  Oh!  I  shall 
die  of  grief  and  shame!" 

Elmer  spoke  a  moment  to  the  Governor,  then  rushing  to  Clare, 
threw  her  arms  around  her  exclaiming: 

11  Oh!  my  poor  Clare!  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

But  Clare  stood  motionless  as  stone,  and  almost  as  cold. 

"  Obtain  my  release,"  she  said  in  a  quiet,  peculiar  tone. 

"  How  can  I  ?  I  have  offered  half  my  fortune  to  do  so,  but  in 
vain." 

"  Obtain  my  release!" 

' '  I  cannot." 

"  Can  I  be  mistaken  ?  or  is  her  heart  stone  ?"  then  aloud:  "  Lady 
Elmer,  did  you  ever  love  ?" 

"Alas!  yes;  so  madly  that  I  would  peril  my  soul  for  a  return." 


SECRETS   TOLD.  157 

"  Indeed?"  in  a  peculiar  voice. 

"  And  you  love  too?     Why  do  you  not  try  to  escape  ?" 

"  Because  I  am  guilty  of  no  crime,  and  my  trying  to  escape  would 
be  taken  by  some  as  proof  positive  of  my  guilt." 

"But  think;  seven  weary  years  to  spend  in  this  dreadful  place. 
Your  companions  thieves  and  murderers;  your  mother  longing  to 
clasp  you  in  her  arms;  your  friends  waiting  for  your  return. 

"And  Sir  Francis?"  But  Elmer  sighed  and  drooped  her  head. 
"  What  means  that  sigh  ?  Does  he  believe  me  guilty  ?  If  he  does, 
the  prison  has  no  more  terror  for  me." 

"  Oh!  do  not  ask  me,  but  try  to  escape." 

"  If  Sir  Francis  thinks  me  guilty,  I  have  no  desire  to  live — but  I 
would  see  my  poor  mother,  and  die  upon  her  breast."  And  Clare 
wept  so  despairingly  that  it  touched  even  Elmer. 

"  Does  my  heart  relent  ?  I  must  leave  her  or  be  lost!"  and  she 
hurried  from  her  side. 

Sir  Francis  and  the  Governor  approached  Clare. 

"  You  will  allow  me  to  speak  to  her  now,  and  I  will  leave  Australia 
on  the  ship  that  departs  to-morrow." 

"Certainly;  I  will  remain  here;"  and  he  turned  to  Lady  Elmer, 
who  soon  appeared  to  be  deeply  interested  in  his  description  of  this 
wonderful,  beautiful  country,  in  which  she  would  remain  but  such  a 
short  time.  Yet  not  a  movement  of  Sir  Francis  or  Clare  escaped  her 
subtle  glance. 

Sir  Francis  had  warmly  greeted  Clare. 

"  Oh!  my  Clare,  once  more  I  clasp  your  hand,  and — "  he  looked 
defiantly  at  Elmer — ' '  I  care  not."  And  he  folded  her  in  his  arms. 

"Oh,  my  heart's  chosen,  how  I  have  suffered!" 

"And  I,  too!"  weeping,  her  head  drooped  on  his  shoulder. 

"Oh!  do  not  weep.  When  I  have  traveled  thousands  of  miles  for 
this  happy  moment,  do  not  let  me  see  tears  in  the  eyes  I  so  love  ;  for 


158  SECRETS   TOLD. 

dearest,  not  for  one  moment  has  a  doubt  of  your  innocence  crossed 
my  mind." 

"Then  I  am  happy,  even  though  a  prison's  walls  surround  me. 
And  my  mother!  you  saw  her;  is  she  well?  What  message  did  she 
send?" 

"Her  undying  love.  She  bids  you  be  of  good  cheer.  That  when 
your  brother  returns,  if  they  cannot  obtain  your  release,  they  will  both 
come  to  you." 

"You  bring  me  joyful  news,  indeed.  Oh!  I  can  bear  up  now,  and 
pity  from  my  heart,  the  poor  beings  around  me  who  have  not  my 
hopes  to  sustain  them." 

"I  have  spoken  to  the  Governor  so  that  you  will  not  be  compelled 
to  work." 

"Oh!  Sir  Francis,  that  was  not  a  kindness!  I  should  think  myself 
to  death  were  I  forced  to  be  idle.  Let  me  weave  my  lace,  it  has  been 
my  friend,  my  comforter,  when  my  heart  was  almost  breaking." 

"You  shall  keep  your  friend.  I  can  easily  imagine  it  has  saved  you 
many  an  hour  of  heartache,  for  enforced  idleness  adds  bitterly  to 
mental  pain.  Your  dear  mother  sends  you  a  casket  containing  some 
remembrances.  I  will  have  it  brought  to  you  when  you  return  to  your 
room,  for  you  will  leave  your  lace  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  surely." 

"Oh!  yes;  I  have  no  need  of  such  a  friend  now.  When  you  return, 
take  my  mother  my  dearest  love.  Tell  her  that  I  will  try  to  bear  up 
for  her  sweet  sake!" 

The  factory  bell  rang  loudly,  and  the  girls  and  women  began  to 
move  out  in  a  slow,  melancholy  line. 

k^'That  is  the  dinner  bell,  and  it  is  my  greatest  trial  to  eat  before  all 
these  staring  eyes,  some  that  exult  to  see  me  here,  few  that  look  in 
pity."  The  Governor  and  Elmer  now  joined  them. 

"My  lord,  please  let  me  dine  alone  to-day?"  and  Clare  looked  be 
seechingly  into  his  face. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  159 


"Certainly,  your  ladyship,  and  every  day  if  you  choose." 

"Oh,  thanks!" 

"Farewell,  Clare,  till  we  meet  again!"  and  Sir  Francis  left  her  with 
a  kiss  on  her  hand;  but  Elmer  turned  away  without  a  word,  the  spirit 
of  a  demon  in  her  heart. 


Chapter  VIII. 

Clare's  cell  was  a  small  room,  furnished  with  a  neat  bed  and  several 
chairs,  a  strip  of  matting,  a  few  prints  without  frames,  and  a  vase  of 
flowers.  White  curtains,  held  back  with  blue  ribbons,  graced  the 
window,  and  a  few  ornaments  and  books  on  a  table,  took  away  the 
prison  look  and  made  it  quite  homelike,  thanks  to  her  friend,  the 
sweet  Beatrice,  the  Governor's  fair  and  only  daughter. 

Clare  had  hastened  here,  awaiting  the  coming  of  the  casket,  and 
now  sat  with  her  head  resting  on  her  hand. 

"Am  I  really  awake  ?  or  is  this  but  a  dream — a  dream  of  happiness 
to  cheat  me  awhile  from  sorrow  ?" 

Beatrice  knocked  gently  at  the  door,  then  came  in. 

"See,  dear  Clare,  what  I  have  for  you;"  and  she  held  up  the  beautiful 
box.  "  The  gentleman  brought  it  all  the  way  from  England.  I  heard 
him  tell  papa  about  it ;  then  I  kissed  papa  and  asked  him  to  let  me 
bring  it  to  you.  Now  give  me  my  pay  and  I'll  be  off  and  leave  you — 
just  fifteen  minutes  to  look  at  the  pretty  things  it  contains,  then  I'm 
coming  back  to  see  them,  too." 

Clare  kissed  her  and  said  : 

"  You  are  as  angelic  as  your  namesake.  Come,  and  share  my  hap 
piness." 

"  I  will,"  and  she  disappeared  like  a  sunbeam.  "  Every  cloud  has 
a  silver  lining  ;  that  dear  girl  is  my  cloud's  silver  lining."  She  held 


160  SECRETS   TOLD. 

up  the  casket.  "  How  familiar  it  looks  ;  in  an  instant  it  carries  me 
back  to  home  and  friends  again.  I  know  it's  spring  so  well."  And 
she  pressed  a  little  golden  rose  and  the  lid  flew  up.  She  took  from  it 
a  long  gold  chain,  to  which  was  attached  an  old  fashioned  medallion, 
surrounded  with  pearls  and  diamonds. 

if  My  mother's  portrait;  dear,  dear  face,  and  kind,  loving  eyes.  Are 
they  dimmed  now  by  the  many  tears  shed  for  your  poor  Clare  ?  They 
shall  brighten  quickly,  for  Hope  whispers  I  shall  soon  be  free.  Here 
is  my  own  little  watch  ;  how  thoughtful.  What  is  this  ?  My  Bible  ! 
I  had  forgotten  it  and  the  comfort  it  would  bring  me."  She  opened 
the  golden  clasp,  and  there,  inside,  lay  a  letter  and  a  lock  of  her 
mother's  hair.  She  kissed  them  both,  then  read  the  letter. 

"  MY  DEAR  CHILD  :  Nothing  shall  shake  our  faith  in  you.  When 
you  return,  we  will  leave  cold,  cruel  England,  and  live  in  beautiful 
Venice,  away  from  all  our  trials.  You  shall  not  have  another  unhappy 
moment  if  a  mother's  loving  heart  can  keep  you  from  it.  Do  not 
despond.  I  am  only  waiting  your  brother's  return,  then  we  will  fly  to 
you,  to  bear  you  from  that  dreadful  place  or  remain  with  you.  Heaven 
bless  you  always.  Your  loving,  hoping  Mother." 

And  Clare  wept  tears  that  relieved  her  over-burdened  heart. 

Beatrice  knocked  gently  at  the  door,  then  entered. 

u  Fifteen  minutes  up.  Weeping  !  I  hope  that  pretty  box  did  not 
cause  those  tears." 

"They  were  only  caused  by  joy  dear  friend.  There,  they  shall  not 
annoy  you." 

"  See  what  I  have  brought  you  ;  roses  for  your  hair;"  and  she 
took  out  Clare's  comb,  and  her  beautiful  hair  fell  in  a  shower  below 
her  waist ;  then  she  fastened  it  back  with  the  roses  and  pinned  a 
bouquet  in  her  dress.  "Now  let  me  see  the  pretties  in  this  box. 
and  find  something  more  to  adorn  my  queen.  Yes,  this  beautiful 
chain  ;  it  is  your  mother's  portrait ;  I  can  tell,  because  it  has  eyes  just 


SECRETS   TOLD.  161 

like  yours."  And  she  kissed  it  and  talked  to  it  as  if  it  were  alive, 
"  Dear  mother  of  my  dear  friend,  I  love  you  already.  Now  the 
watch  ;  and  see,  here  in  the  corner  is  a  beautiful  diamond  ring.  Hold 
out  your  dainty,  lily-white  hand.  Now,  who  looks  like  a  princess  ?" 

"You  are  a  dear  girl,  and  your  friendship  has  kept  me  from  despair  1 
Bui  tell  me  why  you  have  arrayed  me  thus  ?" 

"Oh!  it's  not  to  see  the  handsome  gentleman  who  brought  the  box, 
but  to  go  with  me  to  my  father;  he  wishes  to  see  you  on  important 
business,  and  I'm  to  be  your  guard.  I'm  to  be  held  responsible  for 
you — isn't  that  funny?  They  wouldn't  trust  me,  if  they  knew  I  would 
cry  with  joy  for  a  week,  if  you  would  only  run  away !  Will  you  see 
my  lather?'' 

"Oh!  yes!  perhaps  he  has  my  release." 

"I'll  run  and  bring  our  carnage,  then."     And  she  was  gone. 

"So  much  joy  in  one  day.  Does  happiness  ever  whiten  one's  hair! 
I  can  soon  see,  for  here  in  the  cover  of  the  box  is  my  little  looking 
glass;  I  had  forgotten  it.  I  almost  fear  to  look.  I  wonder  if  I  am 
much  altered  ?  Six  months!  have  the  roses  left  my  cheeks  ?"  She 
bent  her  head  to  look  but  stopped.  "Suppose  I  see  wrinkles;  that 
always  makes  a  woman  sad — I  won't  look;  I  haven't  the  courage." 
And  she  shut  the  box.  But  her  woman's  curiosity  was  strong.  "And 
yet — and  yet — "  she  unconsciously  touched  the  spring  and  the  lid  flew 
up,  as  Beatrice  entered. 

"The  carriage  is  here,  dear;  throw  this  around  you,"  and  she  gave 
Clare  a  large  black  lace  mantle,  which  she  threw  around  her,  partly 
covering  her  head,  as  the  Spanish  ladies  do.  "How  pretty  you  look! 
here,"  and  she  caught  the  box  from  the  table,  and  held  the  glass 
before  her;  "see  for  yourself." 

"My  hair  is  not  white  yet!  Oh!  I'm  so  glad!" 

"What!  have  you  been  dreaming  away  fifty  years,  to  think  of  such 


162  SECRETS   TOLD. 

a  thing?     No,  indeed;  your  hair  is  as  brown,  and  your  cheeks  as  rosy, 

as  when  you  first  came  here." 

"Then  let  us  go  quickly,  for  I  so  long  to  be  free!" 

She   left   the   prison  with   such   bright   hopes,  pulses  high,  cheeks 

flushed.     Were  they  to   be   realized?     A  disappointment  now  would 

almost  kill  her. 


Chapter  IX. 

Outside  the  jail,  on  the  sea  shore,  Cubby  and  Willett  were  taking  a 
walk.  Willet  had  determined  to  secure  a  husband  before  she  returned 
to  England  ;  she  was  also  determined  that  husband  should  be  Cubby. 
Now,  when  a  woman  makes  up  her  mind  upon  such  a  subject,  a  man 
may  as  well  surrender  at  once,  for  his  fate  is  as  inevitable  as  if  pro 
claimed  by  the  ruling  stars.  They  were  talking  of  things  far  removed 
^rom  love — porpoises — but  she  would  lead  him  to  it  soon,  trust  her 
woman's  tact. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Willet/'  he  said,  "  they  are  the  strangest  people 
here  you  ever  heard  tell  of.  Only  think  !  They  wouldn't  kill  one  of 
those  great,  fat,  ugly  purpoises  for  anything." 

"La!  why  not?" 

"  Because  they  think  the  spirits  of  their  dead  friends  go  into  them." 

"  How  heathenish  !" 

"  Yes ;  in  the  boat  this  morning,  I  was  about  to  play  a  trick  on  one 
and  catch  him  in  the  nose  with  a  little  hook,  when  Jack  Jordan  nearly 
pushed  me  out  of  the  boat." 

« The  brute  !     What  for?" 

"  Don't  ye  dare  hurt  him,"  he  said  ;  "that's  Bill  Jones' brother." 
So  none  of  them  would  speak  to  me  for  the  rest  of  the  sail,  except  so 
cross  and  surly  and  short,  that  I  was  glad  when  we  landed." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  163 

"  Don't  expose  your  precious  life  with  those  barbarians  any  more. 
It's  very  romantic  here,  though,  isn't  it  Cubby  ?  The  great  big  waves 
rolling  up  to  your  feet,  and  the  lobster  shells  lying  around  !" 

"  Yes,  and  the  smell  of  the  sea  breeze,  as  if  one  had  a  barrel  of 
herring  in  their  cellar.  But  my  lord  leaves  on  the  ship  to-morrow, 
which  doesn't  please  me.  Six  months  on  sea  to  one  on  land  isn't  just 
the  ticket." 

"  La  !  you  don't  say  so  !     And  does  my  lady  leave,  too  ?" 

te  You  ought  to  know  that !  Why,  you  couldn't  keep  her  from  going 
in  the  ship  he  sails  in,  for — for — I  don't  know  what  simile  to  make. 
I  thought  you  were  clever  enough  to  see  that." 

But  she  smiled  and  said  : 

"Well,  you  know,  sometimes  it's  politics  to  be  blind." 

"  Yes,  and  dumb,  too  ;  well,  then,  we  leave  on  the  ship  to-morrow, 
and  the  friend  doesn't  go  with  us,  as  far  as  I  can  understand." 

"You  mean  Lady  Clare,  the  poor  dear  !  I'd  like  to  see  her  so 
much,  and  say  a  kind  word  to  her.  How  can  I  arrange  it  ?'' 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Why  not  ask  your  lady  ?  If  she  says  no, 
get  a  rope  ladder  and  we  will  scale  the  building." 

"  Why,  Cubby,  dear,  when  did  you  get  to  be  so  romantic  ?" 

"  Three  months  of  your  charming  society  on  the  briny  deep  would 
make  a  very  fish  romantic." 

"  I  do  believe  the  poor  fellow's  getting  in  love  !  La,  Cubby  do  you 
find  my  society  charming  ?" 

"  I  do  here;  I  don't  know  how  it  will  be  when  we  get  back  to 
England." 

"  Well  I  never  !  I  must  attach  him  a  little  stronger  to  me.  Cubby, 
who'  was  that  handsome  fellow  painting  carriages  in  the  room  they  left 
us  in  yesterday  ?" 

"  Hey  ?    Some  thief,  or  perhaps  murderer  in  the  second  degree." 

"That  can't  be  !     I  believe  he's  under  a  false  charge.     Why,  he  has 


164  SECRETS   TOLD. 

birds  and  flowers  in  the  room,  and  was  humming.  What  a  sweet 
smile  he  has." 

"  Hey  ?     What's  he  to  you  ?" 

"Oh!  nothing,  of  course!  but  one  may  admire  anything  handsome, 
mayn't  they,  in  nature  or  art?" 

"Perhaps  you  could  persuade  him  to  try  for  a  'ticket-of-leave'  and 
come  over  to  England." 

"Well,  what  would  be  the  harm  if  I  did?  I  am  sure  it  would  be  a 
very  charitable  thing  to  do." 

"Miss  Sarah  Willet!"  and  he  took  her  hand  from  his  arm,  "would 
you  as  leave  take  the  rest  of  your  walk  alone?" 

Putting  her  hand  back  on  his  arm,  she  replied:  "I  would  just  as 
leave  walk  with  you." 

"Then  just  please  to  remember  not  to  mention  birds,  flowers,  or 
sweet  smiles  to  me  again." 

"I  do  believe  Cubby's  getting  jealous." 

"No  such  thing!  no  such  thing!  but  if  you  want  to  admire  any 
body,  admire  me.  You"  but  she  laughed  so  heartily,  that  he  said  no 
more,  but  hurried  her  on  with  their  walk  in  silence. 

Thus  destiny  was  weaving  a  little  romance  for  our  humbler  sister, 
without  all  the  pain,  anguish,  and  crime,  the  elegant  lady,  her  mistress, 
was  enduring  and  committing  to  bring  one  man  to  her  feet. 

Why  is  it  that  some  people  are  happy  without  an  effort  of  their  own, 
the  good  things  of  this  world  poured  into  their  lap,  sorrow  and  pain 
passing  harmless  by  their  houses,  as  they  did  those  of  old,  marked  with 
the  blood,  while  others,  with  heart  and  brain  so  sensitive  and  capable 
of  happiness,  with  minds  highly  cultured,  pulses  passionate,  beings 
capable  of  intense  love,  and  worthy  of  it — why  should  they  so  often 
suffer  the  tortures  of  the  damned  ?  Yet  so  it  is.  Poor  imbecility  is 
happy,  while  beings  that  should  reign  are,  like  the  archangel  of  old, 
cast  down  into  the  lower  depths,  their  hearts  gnawing  their  very  lives 
away,  and  their  ambition  trailing  like  mantles  in  the  dirt. 


SECRETS   TOLD.  165 


Chapter  X. 

The  Governor  sat  in  his  elegant  parlor,  thinking. 

"Young,  fair  looking,  wealthy,  a  fine  old  name  and  innocent.  Not 
a  bad  investment;  then,  too,  an  act  of  charity,  and  I'm  not  so  old  that 
her  loving  me  some  day  should  be  an  impossibility."  With  this  he 
walked  to  the  mantle-glass  to  see  how  he  really  did  look.  "Hair 
slightly  gray,  umph — well,  a  very  few  wrinkles;  not  so  bad!  not  so  bad! 
I  think  if  she  were  my  wife,  I  could  persuade  her  gracious  Majesty  of 
her  entire  innocence. 

"Then,  too,  I  should  not  be  worried  with  the  complaints  of  a  grown 
up  daughter  when  the  step-mother  happens  to  be  young  and  fair,  for 
Beatrice  loves  her  more  than  I  do  at  present." 

He  turned  with  a  smile  from  the  glass,  as  Beatrice  ran  in  and  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck.  Clare  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Dear  papa,  here's  my  Clare,  looking  oh!  so  sweet.  I  hope  you 
will  love  her  as  I  do,  and  let  her  go  home  on  a  beautiful  ship.  But 
I  shall  cry  when  she  goes,  indeed  I  shall!"  and  she  ran  to  the  door* 
and  brought  Clare  to  where  her  father  stood. 

The  Governor  bowed  low. 

"I  am  sorry,  Lady  Clare,  that  you  did  not  make  yourself  known  to 
me  before.  I  should  have  tried  to  have  made  your  unjust  imprison 
ment  a  little  more  comfortable.  You  see  with  so  many  we  cannot 
individualize,  unless  there  is  some  peculiarity  in  their  case  which  is 
brought  to  our  notice.  From  what  your  friend  Sir  Francis  Hilton  says, 
I  believe  you  are  entirely  innocent  of  the  charge  for  which  you  are  im 
prisoned." 


166  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"Oh!  my  lord,  I  thank  you!"  and  she  kissed  his  hand.  "Thank  you!" 
and  she  could  not  prevent  the  tears  coming. 

" Don't  cry,  for  I'm  so  happy,"  said  Beatrice,  kissing  her. 

"I  believe  every  effort  was  made  in  England  to  obtain  your  release?" 
Clare  bowed.  "And  all  were  unsuccessful?" 

"Yes." 

"I  have  been  thinking  what  influence  I  could  bring  to  bear  for  your 
speedy  release,  greater  than  your  family  or  Sir  Francis  Hilton  exerted, 
and  I  have  decided  that  there  is  at  least  one  fair  chance  untried." 

"Oh!  what  is  it,  my  lord  ?  You  will  have  my  mother's  fervent 
prayers,  and  Sir  Francis  Hilton's  eternal  gratitude." 

"And  you?" 

"My  life's  devotion!"  He  looked  pleased,  but  when  she  added  "I 
will  love  you  as  my  dear  father,"  he  was  a  little  annoyed. 

"Beatrice!"  he  called,  and  beckoned  for  her  to  bring  some  refresh 
ments. 

"Yes,  papa;  here  is  some  cake,  and  some  cordial  that  I  made 
myself.  Take  some,  dear  Clare,  I  want  to  drink  your  health." 

"My  dear  Beatrice,  I  could  not  now." 

"Do  my  dear  young  lady,  it  will  strengthen  you  to  hear  my  plan, 
and  decide  what  you  think  best."     So  they  each  took  a  small  glass  of 
ttie  fragrant  cordial,  and  he  said:   "Here's  to  your  speedy  release!" 

"I  hope  so!1'  cried  Beatrice  as  joyfully  as  if  the  release  was  sure  to 
come  now  that  her  father  interested  himself  in  her  friend.  Clare 
smiled  her  thanks  to  both.  The  Governor  placed  her  in  an  elegant 
easy  chair,  and  sat  down  beside  her  while  Beatrice  went  to  the  window, 
and  appeared  to  be  much  interested  in  what  was  going  on  outside. 

"It  may  appear  abrupt,  this  sudden  declaration  of  interest  on  my 
part/'  said  the  Governor,  "but  if  it  obtains  for  you  your  desired  re 
lease,  you  will  not  think  it  the  less  worthy  of  attention.  Beatrice 


SECRETS    TOLD.  167 

there — oh !  I  know  you're  listening,  you  little  rogue — loves  you  dearly 
already,  so  you  would  not  come  a  stranger  into  this  house." 

"I — I  do  not  understand." 

"I — I — mean — "  Beatrice  relieved  him  of  his  embarrassment  by 
throwing  her  arms  around  Clare,  and  exclaiming: 

"Papa  means  for  you  to  marry  him!  Oh!  do,  dear  Clare." 

"Surely  you  cannot  mean  that  ?"  said  Clare,  rising  in  agitation. 

"Why  not  ?  Am  I  so  repulsive  that  I  never  need  hope  to  marry 
again?" 

"Oh!  no,  my  lord,  but  I  am  the  betrothed  wife  of  Sir  Francis 
Hilton!" 

1  'And  what  of  that  ?     Has  he  been  able  to  obtain  your  release  ?" 

"Alas,  no!" 

"Then  marry  me  and  see  what  a  devoted  husband  can  do.  I  will 
so  besiege  and  entreat  her  Majesty,  that  she  will  be  compelled  to  be 
lieve  in  your  innocence. " 

"But  I  love  Sir  Francis." 

"Time  will  cure  that.     He  leaves  Australia  fo-morrow." 

"To-morrow!  without  a  farewell  word?  Oh!  I  did  not  believe  he 
could  be  so  cruel !  My  lord,  I  will  go  back  to  my  prison;  liberty  is 
not  so  precious  now." 

Beatrice  came  to  her  and  said  in  a  pleading  manner: 

"Don't  say  no,  dear  Clare;  if  you  marry  papa  you  will  never  leave 
us,  and  that  would  make  me  so  happy." 

"Beatrice,  you  do  not  know  what  love  is,  or  you  would  not  urge 
me  to  marry  your  father  without  it,  and  my  heart  filled  with  devotion 
for  another." 

"I  will  not  urge  my  suit  now,  Lady  Clare,  but  trust  to  time  and  your 
own  good  sense  to  help  me;  for  should  the  Queen  refuse  to  hear  me, 
you  would  only  be  a  prisoner  in  name,  for  as  my  wife  you  would  have 
the  freedom  of  the  whole  island,  none  here  daring  to  question  me." 


168  SECRETS   TOLD. 

The  bell  rang  violently.     Beatrice  ran  to  the  window  and  cried: 

"Oh!  papa,  there  is  a  lady  at  the  door  in  deep  black,  with  a  heavy 
vail  over  her  face.  What  can  she  want?" 

A  servant  entered  and  said  a  lady  wished  to  see  the  Governor. 

"Tell  her  I  am  engaged." 

"No,  my  lord,  let  me  return  to  my  prison;  I  feel  very  weary." 

"Show  her  up!"  said  the  Governor  not  very  well  pleased. 

"I'll  go  to  the  carriage  with  you,  dear,  Clare,  then  I'm  coming 
back  to  see  what  she  wants."  By  this  time  Lady  Elmer  stood  in  the 
door;  seeing  Clare  she  startled  and  muttered: 

"Am  I  too  late  ?"  But  she  bowed  low  as  Clare  and  Beatrice  passed 
her. 

Clare  thought,  "what  brings  her  here?  Can  it  be  treachery?"  but 
said  not  a  word  as  she  returned  the  bow  and  left  the  room. 

"Your  business  with  me,  madam  ?  said  the  Governor  as  he  handed 
her  a  chair. 

"You  have  a  prisoner  there,"  and  she  pointed  to  the  prison.  She 
spoke  quietly,  but  could  not  hide  agitation.  "A  titled  lady." 

"That  is  true,  madam." 

"Her  name  is  Clare  De  Mille." 

"Again  correct,  madam." 

"The  lady's  lover  has  just  traveled  several  thousand  miles;  most 
likely  to  effect  her  escape." 

"Ah !  there  your  knowledge  exceeds  mine.'5 

"I  come  to  request  you  to  redouble  your  vigilance  till  the  ship 
leaves  to-morrow." 

"Indeed!  that  is  a  singular  request  from  a  stranger.  How  can  the 
lady's  escape  or  detention  affect  you  ?" 

She  started  to  her  feet. 

"More  than  life  itself!  Oh!  I — I — cannot  explain.  You  are  a 
widower,  are  you  not  ?" 


SECRETS   TOLD.  169 

"I  have  that  unhappiness,  madam."  Here  Beatrice  came  quietly 
into  the  room,  and  sat  down  apart  from  them. 

"Then  marry  this  girl,  and  I  will  give  her  a  dowry  of  twenty 
thousand  pounds." 

"I  have  already  done  myself  the  honor  of  proposing." 

"Did  she  refuse?" 

"She  loves  another." 

"Then  marry  her  to  any  one — a  common  thief,  if  need  be,  and  t 
will  give  you  thirty  thousand  pounds." 

"How  do  I  know  but  that  you  are  the  lady  in  disguise  ?"  and  he 
snatched  the  heavy  vail  quickly  from  her  face.  "Ah  !  Lady  Elmer 
Dudley !  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  madam !"  and  he  bowed  low. 

"How  dare  you?"  But  she  saw  that  she  was  discovered,  and  that 
anger  would  be  bad  policy,  so  she  said  humbly:  "Now  you  know 
who  I  am  you  can  understand  my  motives. " 

"You  a — you. love  Sir  Francis  Hilton?" 

"Alas!  yes!"  Beatrice  shocked,  hurried  from  the  room  to  seek  and 
inform  Clare. 

"I  will  tell  you  for  your  own  satisfaction,  Lady  Dudley,  if  by  any 
means  I  can  induce  the  Lady  Clare  to  become  my  wife,  I  shall  do  so.r 

"If  she  does  not  consent  compel  her  to.  Tell  her  Sir  Francis  is 
to  be  married  on  his  return  to  England;  anything  to  make  her  hate 
him." 

Here  a  servant  brought  word  that  Sir  Francis  Hilton  wished  to 
speak  to  the  Governor. 

"Oh!  he  must  not  see  me  here;  it  would  ruin  my  prospects 
forever.  Where  can  I  go  ?" 

"Step  into  my  daughter's  room  for  a  moment." 

She  quickly  covered  her  face  with  the  heavy  vail,  and  went  into  the 
room;  but  standing  near  the  door,  she  listened  intently,  and  heard 
nearly  all  that  passed  between  Sir  Francis  and  the  Governor. 


170  SECRETS    TOLD. 

How  her  heart  bounded  with  hope,  as  she  heard  the  Governor  re 
quest  Sir  Francis  not  to  see  the  Lady  Clare  again  before  his  departure 
as  it  might  interfere  with  his  plans  for  her  release.  Sir  Francis 
suffered  torture  at  the  thought,  but  at  last  consented. 

"For  her  sake,  I  would  suffer  as  the  martyrs  did  of  old."  But 
during  the  long  interview  no  kind  word  for  Elmer  escaped  his  lips, 
and  she  bit  her  hand  till  it  bled,  as  he  left  the  house  without  once 
mentioning  her  name. 


Chapter  XI. 

It  was  nearly  sunset  and  the  yellow  light  gilded  the  prison  till  it 
seemed  almost  a  thing  of  beauty;  the  waves  tipped  with  golden  fire, 
washed  its  base,  and  the  clouds  spread  in  glory  above  it.  Yet  behind 
those  shining  walls,  grief,  misery,  and  crime,  everything  that  was  bad  in 
human  nature,  and  but  little  that  was  pure  and  good,  had  their  abode. 

Sir  Francis  was  on  the  beach,  intently  watching  the  scene. 

"There  is  the  grim  monster  that  hides  my  Clare,  and  should  the 
Governor's  artempt  fail,  when  shall  I  see  her  again  ?  Oh,  it  almost 
tempts  me  to  make  confidants  of  thieves  and  vagabonds  to  learn  their 
profession,  so  that  I  might  scale  those  walls  and  bear  my  darling 
hence,  away  from  the  tyranny  of  cruel  laws  to  some  fair  southern  isle, 
never  to  see  England  or  Lady  Dudley  again.  What  brought  her  here  ? 
That  thought  troubles  me,  for  she  has  attended  to  no  business  as  yet, 
and  says  she  leaves  on  the  ship  to-rnorrow.  Is  she  in  league  with 
some  one  to  destroy  the  Lady  Clare  ?  How  powerless  I  am  to  ascer 
tain  or  prevent  it !  Creatures  of  destiny,  all  of  us  !  Wealth  and 
titles,  often,  as  futile  to  obtain  a  desired  object  as  the  gauntest  poverty. 
I  must  leave  this  spot  or  I  shall  be  tempted  to  break  my  word  with  the 
Governor,  and  see  her  once  more,  despite  the  consequences  !"  As 


SECRETS    TOLD.  171 

he  was  thinking  thus,  Willet,  who  was  seeking  him,  came  near  and 
coughed,  to  attract  his  attention,  and  when  he  looked  at  her  she  cour- 
tesied  and  said : 

"  My  lord,  my  lady  wishes  to  know  if  your  time  is  all  engaged  this 
afternoon  ?" 

"  Must  that  woman  haunt  me  like  the  recollection  of  some  terrible 
nightmare?"  Then  turning  to  her  he  said  aloud:  "Yes,  till  the  ship 
sails." 

"  How  ungracious  !  She  hasn't  done  much  toward  catching  him, 
after  all ;  but  I  must  be  polite,  as  I  expect  to  enter  his  lordship's  ser 
vice  as  Mrs.  Cubby,  on  our  return  to  dear  England ;"  then  she 
courtesied  and  said  :  "  Thank  you,  your  lordship.  I  will  tell  her 
your  time  is^all  engaged  ;"  and  she  started  to  walk  away. 

"  What  can  she  want  to  see  me  for  ?  Should  it  be  about  poor  Clare! 
Oh  !  I  must  not  neglect  the  least  trifle  that  points  to  her  release* 
Stay  !"  he  called  to  Willet  ;  "  tell  her  I  will  see  her  in  an  hour,"  and 
he  walked  rapidly  away. 

u  Well,  he's  a  fickle  gentleman,  whatever  they  may  say  about  the 
ladies.  I  hope  the  air  of  England  won't  cause  me  and  Mr.  Cubby 
to  alter  our  determination  ;"  and  she  hurried  back  to  her  lady,  bring 
ing  joy  to  her  torn,  passionate  heart,  for  like  a  discreet  servant,  she 
only  told  what  was  pleasant,  keeping  the  rest  to  herself. 


Chapter   XII. 

Beatrice  had  hurried  to  ascertain  what  she  could,  then  gone  to 
Clare,  and  was*  standing  and  talking  excitedly,  while  she  listened, 
looking,  oh  !  so  sad  and  despondent. 

"  Yes,  you  must  escape  this  very  day,  for  oh  !  you  don't  know  what 


172  SECRETS   TOLD. 

that  bad  woman  said  ;  '  marry  her  to  a  common  thief,  if  need  be,  and 
I  will  giveyou  thirty  thousand  pounds!'  Oh,  my  Clare,  there  is  a  price 
set  upon  your  head  ;  you  are  to  be  sold  like  a  slave  in  the  market 
place  !  But  I  will  prevent  it !  I  have  secured  my  brother's  boat  in  a 
little  secret  grotto  that  I  discovered,  almost  at  the  prison  door,  and 
have  formed  plans  for  your  escape.  You  take  this  knotted  rope  ;  your 
love  of  life  and  liberty  will  teach  you  what  to  do." 

"Oh,  Beatrice,  I  am  innocent ;  if  I  try  to  escape  they  will  deem  me 
guilty." 

Oh,  do  not,  do  not  remain  for  that  unscrupulous  woman  to  plot 
against  you." 

"  What  have  I  done  to  any  human  being  that  they  should  destroy 
me  thus  ?" 

"  Dear  Clare,  no  matter  how  mnocent  you  are,  it  seems  you  cannot 
obtain  your  release  legally,  so  unless  you  escape,  you  must  remain 
here  the  rest  of  those  long,  weary  years  ;  subjected,  too,  to  annoy 
ances  that  will  break  your  gentle  heart.  For  the  love  I  bear  you,  do 
not  refuse  this  chance  of  liberty.  I  will  put  food  and  clothing  in  the 
boat,  and  will  join  you  before  the  moon  rises.  Oh,  I  almost  forgot 
this  letter." 

"Ah!  it  is  Sir  Francis'  writing."  She  took  it  and  read  the  contents 
eagerly,  her  eyes  quickly  filling  with  tears.  "  Beatrice,  I  shall  not  see 
him  again  till  we  meet  in  England,  and  how  can  I  endure  to  go  there, 
having  to  lurk  in  lanes  and  alleys,  not  daring  to  go  to  my  home,  or 
even  to  the  church,  for  fear  of  recognition.  A  fearful  dread  haunting 
me,  of  a  heavy  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  and  the  deadening  words, 
•you  are  my  prisoner!'  hissed  in  my  ears,  blasting  life  and  hope  !  Oh! 
what  would  liberty  be  at  such  a  price  ?" 

"  Dear  Clare,  you  look  upon  the  darkest  side.  Go  to  beautiful,  free 
America;  there  marry  Sir  Francis,  and  remain  till  your  innocence  is 
declared  as  it  must  be,  will  be,  before  long.  Do  not  remain  here  to 


SECRETS    TOLD.  173 

let  that  bad  woman  undermineyour  happiness,  and  perhaps  even  marry 
your  betrothed." 

"Sir  Francis  loves  me  too  dearly  for  that  ever  to  happen.  See 
what  his  letter  says :  '  My  beloved,  not  even  death  shall  part  us,  for 
should  you  go  before,  a  broken  heart  would  soon  hurry  me  after.  Let 
nothing  shake  your  faith  in  me!'  And  nothing  shall." 

"  But,  dear  friend,  he  will  soon  be  gone,  and  she  may  leave  a  bribe 
with  one  of  the  prisoners  to  do  you  personal  harm.  Think  how  desper 
ate  a  woman  could  act,  loving  wildly,  but  with  that  love  unreturned. 
Nothing  would  be  impossible  to  her.  And  see !  even  now  she  meets 
him  on  the  beach,  and  detains  him  against  his  will.  He  looks  here  as 
if  beseeching  you  to  come."  They  were  both  at" the  barred  window, 
and  could  see  Elmer  talking  to  Sir  Francis  with  drooping  head. 

Clare's  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  and  the  spirit  of  resistance  came 
to  aid  her;  she  cried: 

' '  I  will  crush  that  woman's  evil  plans,  come  what  may.  To-night 
I  escape." 

The  sun  had  set  and  clouds  covered  the  sky.  Beatrice  had  placed 
some  provisions  and  shawls  in  the  boat,  but  nothing  for  a  long  voyage, 
or  as  a  protection  from  danger.  She  was  only  a  young  girl  with  a 
heart  filled  with  love  for  her  friend,  and  an  enthusiastic  desire  for  her 
escape. 

When  all  was  quiet  at  the  prison,  and  the  lights  out,  Beatrice  stood 
beneath  Clare's  window.  She  clapped  her  hands  three  times,  but  not 
very  loud,  then  called  in  a  whisper: 

"  Clare,  Clare!"  She  appeared  directly  at  the  small  window,  where 
they  had  bent  two  of  the  bars,  so  that  she  could  press  her  slender  body 
through  the  space. 

"  Is  everything  ready  ?"  she  asked  in  a  loud  whisper. 

"Yes.     Quick,  the  guard  is  at  the  furthest  wall." 

Clare  threw  out  the  rope.     "Hold  it  firmly,  I  have  secured  this  end 


174  SECRETS    TOLD. 

so  that  I  can  easily  descend."  She  had  passed  it  twice  around  the 
post  of  the  bedstead,  which  she  had  drawn  close  to  the  window ;  then 
she  had  made  a  loop  at  the  end  for  her  foot,  and  another  further  above 
for  her  hand. 

As  she  appeared  out  of  the  window,  Beatrice's  heart  beat  fast;  sup 
pose  her  strength  should  fail,  and  she  should  let  go  of  the  rope,  her 
dear  friend  would  be  dashed  to  pieces.  The  thought  was  horrible 
and  made  her  blood  rush  through  her  veins.  As  Clare  began  to  de 
scend,  she  had  to  exert  all  her  strength  and  play  the  rope  out  very 
slowly.  As  the  wind  caught  her  white  garments  she  looked  like  an 
angel  floating  in  the  air.  When  she  had  descended  half  the  distance 
the  moon  broke  from  a  cloud,  and  bathed  her  in  silvery  light. 

"We  shall  be  discovered,"  almost  shrieked  Beatrice. 

"Quicker,  then,  I  am  not  afraid!"  Fear  of  discovery  gave  Beat 
rice  almost  superhuman  strength,  and  in  a  few  moments  more  Clare 
touched  the  earth.  The  friends  clasped  each  other  in  a  warm  em 
brace,  then  thanking  God  for  her  escape,  they  hurried  into  the  boat, 
and  in  a  few  moments  they  were  on  the  broad  ocean,  breathing  the 
air  of  liberty. 


Chapter  XIII. 

The  morrow  had  come,  and  the  ship  had  started  on  her  voyage  to 
England.  And  now  it  was  night,  and  the  moon  lit  up  the  scene,  mak 
ing  it  supremely  beautiful.  But  Sir  Francis'  eyes  were  turned  inward, 
reading  his  heart's  book;  he  saw  nothing  of  his  surroundings.  Elmer 
was  walking  with  the  Captain,  and  Cubby  and  Willet  were  playing 
their  little  romance.  The  sailors  were  pulling  some  ropes  and  sing 
ing  the  musical  tar  song  the  words  of  which  were  incomprehensible  to 
all  save  the  singer. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  175 

"Blow  the  man  down,  bullies,  hey,  hey! 

Blow  the  man  down. 
Roll  him,  groll  him,  hearties,  ho, 

Give  me  some  time  to  blow  the  man  down." 

Sir  Francis  thought : 

"Each  moment  bears  me  farther  from  her,  powerless  to  snatch  her 
from  that  wretched  prison,  or  share  it  with  her  !"  and  he  leaned  over 
the  bulwarks  and  looked  yearningly  at  the  land  they  had  left. 

"Is  it  not  a  lovely  night,  Captain  ?"  said  Elmer  sweetly,  and  with  a 
subtle  woman's  policy,  trying  to  show  Sir  Francis  that  she  could  take 
pleasure  in  another's  society. 

"Yes;  but  do  you  see  yonder  small  black  cloud  ?" 

"Where  ?" 

"There." 

"But  surely  that  is  not  large  enough  to  cause  us  any  inconvenience." 

"Ah!  my  lady,  in  a  short  time  you  will  hear  these  old  sails  and  ropes 
speak  in  tones  not  to  be  mistaken." 

"Do  you  really  think  there  will  be  any  danger,  Captain?"  But  here 
the  faint  thunder  rolled  a  long  peal  through  the  sky. 

"It  may  blow  over,  the  moon  still  shines." 

"I  hope  so ;  a  storm  at  sea  must  be  very  unpleasant,"  she  said 
nervously. 

"  Excuse  me;  I  must  watch  that  cloud  closely;''  and  he  took  his 
glass  and  looked,  and  then  moved  away. 

Elmer  went  timidly  to  Sir  Francis'  side.  "Sir  Francis,  do  you  think 
there  will  be  much  of  a  storm  ?" 

"Why  the  moon  is  shining." 

"Yes,  but  see  that  black  cloud;  how  rapidly  it  is  approaching  us." 
The  thunder  rolled  louder.  "It  makes  me  nervous." 

"I  wish  the  lightning  would  flash  and  the  thunder  roar,  and  the 
waves  dash  mountains  high!  something  in  unison  with  my  feelings." 


176  SECRETS   TOLD. 

"How  can  you  wish  it!"  and  she  shuddered  as  the  thunder  came 
louder,  and  walked  away. 

"Oh,  I  hope  there  isn't  going  to  be  a  storm !"  said  Willet. 

"Don't  be  a  goose, you  little  duck!  it's  nice  to  watch  the  lightning 
flash,  and  hear  the  thunder  roar  if  there  isn't  too  much  of  it!"  replied 
Alphonse  Gubby. 

"Any  of  it's  too  much  for  me!  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  venture  on 
the  sea  again." 

"What  would  you  do  if  I  should  become  the  captain  of  a  goodly 
ship  ?" 

"Willet!"  called  Elmer,  from  the  bulwark  where  she  had  been 
looking  off  with  her  glass. 

"My  "lady!" 

"Look  through  these  glasses  and  tell  me  is  it  not  a  boat  you  see." 

"Where?" 

"There,  there;  do  you  not  see  it?" 

"Yes — oh,  yes!  I  see  it  now;  and — and  there  is  some  one  in  it." 

"Man  or  woman?" 

"It  is  too  large  for  one  person,  it's — it's  two  women." 

"I  thought  so  !"  and  she  took  the  glasses  and  looked  through  them 
eagerly.  "It  is  Clare;  she  has  made  her  escape!''  But  the  thunder 
rolled  so  heavily  that  she  started  and  dropped  the  glasses,  then  shud 
dering  she  hid  her  head  in  her  shawl. 

Sir  Francis  who  had  also  been  looking  through  his  glass,  called: 

"Captain,  one  moment  if  you  please.  Are  there  not  two  women 
in  that  boat  ?"  The  Captain  brought  his  powerful  glass  to  bear  upon 
the  boat,  and  after  looking  a  few  moments  said: 

"Yes,  and  they  are  in  distress;  do  you  not  see  that  signal  fluttering 
wildly  in  the  wind  ?  Take  my  glass,  most  likely  it  is  more  powerful." 
He  took  it,  and  in  a  moment  exclaimed:  "It  is  Clare,  and  some  one 
with  her!  Oh,  they  will  be  lost  in  this  storm!  Captain,  what  can  we 


SECRETS    TOLD.  177 

do  ?"  But  the  little  cloud  had  increased  in  size  till  it  nearly  covered 
the  sky  and  shut  out  the  light  of  the  moon;  the  thunder  was  very 
heavy  and  the  lightning  kept  up  a  continual  flash,  and  the  rain  began 
to  fall  in  torrents 

"It  is  so  dark  that  I  would  have  to  trust  to  the  flashes  of  lightning  to 
find  them."  A  terrible  peal  of  thunder  decided  him.  "I  will  make  the 
attempt.  Man  the  life  boat!" 

"Captain,  I'm  one  of  the  crew!"  cried  Sir  Francis.  Elmer  heard 
it  amid  all  the  confusion  of  sailors  running  hither  and  thither,  Truman, 
the  mate,  shouting  orders,  the  pulling  of  ropes,  and  the  din  of  the  tem 
pest.  She  would  not  have  left  the  deck  now,  if  almost  instant  death 
were  the  penalty.  Her  love  was  stronger  than  her  fear. 

"Captain!"  she  called  in  a  loud  whisper,  "twenty  thousand  pounds  to 
leave  them  to  their  fate !" 

"But  they  will  be  lost." 

"So  much  the  better;  a — some  other  ship  may  save  them.  Thirty 
thousand  pounds  if  you  do  not  hesitate." 

"I'm  poor  and  mortal — stay,  my  men,  we  will  not  risk  it." 

"Ah!"  Elmer  exclaimed  in  joyous  triumph. 

But  Sir  Francis  had  been  watching  her,  and  suspected  she  had 
caused  the  captain  to  countermand  the  order. 

'Treachery!"  he  cried,  throwing  off  his  coat,  and  leaping  overboard, 
as  the  thunder  with  a  fearful  crash  seemed  to  rend  the  very  heavens, 
and  the  lightning  to  change  the  dark  ocean  into  an  abyss  of  fire. 

Elmer  shrieked  and  rushed  wildly  to  the  side  of  the  vessel,  but  be 
fore  she  reached  the  bulwarks,  she  fainted  and  fell  to  the  deck. 

"Oh,  my  poor  lady,  she  is  dead!"  cried  Willet,  in  a  moment  at  her 
side. 

"Quick,  bring  her  to  my  cabin,  and  get  the  doctor."  They  did  so, 
and  one  of  the  sailors  called  the  doctor.  But  Truman,  suspecting  some 
thing  was  wrong,  said: 


178 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


"My  men,  lower  the  boat;    that  man  and  those  women  must  be 

be  saved." 

And  the  sailors  who  were  kind  hearted,  were  glad  and  cried: 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!"   and  singing,  they  lowered  the  boat,  as  the  cloud 

passed  on,  and  the  moon  was  shining. 


Chapter  XVI. 

There,  in  the  little  boat,  with  the  waves  surging  around  them,  was 
Clare,  holding  Beatrice  in  her  arms.  A  handkerchief  was  tied  to  an 
oar  as  a  signal  of  distress,  and  so  they  waited;  and  now  the  moon 
shone  on  them 

"Does  the  ship  see  us?"  asked  Beatrice  in  a  faint  voice. 

"Not  yet,  I  think." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  cold  !  The  storm  has  wet  me  to  the  skin  !" 

"I,  too,  am  drenched,  so  cannot  help  you.      Are  you  still  thirsty  ?" 

"  I  do  not  suffer  so,  as  the  rain  you  so  thoughtfully  caught  in  your 
hands,  so  much  refreshed  me." 

"  Poor  child  !  I  gave  it  to  her  while  my  throat  was  parched  !"  A 
distant  peal  of  thunder  caused  Beatrice  to  tremble. 

-'Oh  !  is  not  the  storm  over?     The  lightning  frightens  me  so." 

"Yes,  dear  Beatrice,  it  has  passed  and  the  moon  shines;  that  is 
only  its  dying  moan.  Oh,  the  storm  was  grand.  I  am  sorry  you  were 
so  terrified;  you  lost  a  glorious  sight." 

"How  brave  you  are.  Dear  Clare,  had  it  not  been  for  you  I  should 
have  died  with  terror.  What  is  that  ?  I  hear  distant  singing." 

"It  is  from  the  ship — it  is  nearing  us!"  and  she  shaded  her  eyes 
with  her  hand  and  looked  intently. 

"  But  do  they  see  us  ?" 


SECRETS    TOLD.  179 

"  I  cannot  tell  yet." 

c '  Had  I  not  lost  the  other  oar  in  my  terror,  we  might  at  least  have 
made  an  effort  for  our  lives.  Oh,  I  am  so  faint." 

"  How  shall  I  attract  their  attention  ?  Could  they  hear  if  I  should 
sing  ?  But  my  throat  is  parched,  so  long  without  water;  forgetting  to 
put  any  in  the  boat."  Beatrice  sighed,  and  her  head  sank  on  Clare's 
shoulder.  "  I'll  try;"  and  she  sang  a  sweet  plaintive  air — a  mother's 
love;  and  pausing  every  little  while  she  listened.  As  her  sweet  voice 
died  away  she  heard  a  sound. 

"Ah!"  she  exclaimed  joyfully,  "I  hear  the  dipping  of  oars;  they 
come— nearer  and  nearer — we  are  saved!"  At  a  distance  Truman 
cried: 

"  Cheer  up,  my  lassies!" 

"  Do  you  hear,  Beatrice?  The  boat  is  nearly  here,  to  bear  us  to 
the  ship  and  safety." 

"  What  is  it  ?  Oh,  I  was  dreaming  so  pleasantly.  A  boat  did  you 
say?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  nearly  here!  But  should  they  recognize  me,  would 
they  send  me  back  again  ?  Kind  Heaven  forbid  it  and  protect  me!" 
And  now  the  boat  with  Truman  and  the  sailors  in  it,  was  near  to 
theirs.  Truman  cried  in  a  cheering  voice: 

"  You  are  all  right,  my  lassies,  and  will  soon  be  safe  in  the  warm 
ship — what's  that,  a  sick  one  ?'' 

"  Yes;  we  are  nearly  exhausted;  bear  her  tenderly." 

"Ay,  ay!  my  lass!  But  I'm  sorry  to  tell  ye,  ye'll  both  have  to  be 
stowaways." 

"  For  what  reason  ?" 

"There's  a  lady  on  board  who's  no  friend  of  yours,  for  after  whis 
pering  to  the  Captain,  he  countermanded  the  order  to  l  man  the  life 
boat!' " 

"  It  is  Lady  Elmer.     Will  she  hunt  me  to  the  death?" 


180 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


But  Truman  quickly  helped  them  into  the  boat  and  ordered  his 
men  to  pull  away  for  their  lives. 

As  they  were  quickly  nearing  the  ship,  Sir  Francis  swam  in  sight  of 
Clare's  boat.  He  was  nearly  exhausted,  buffeting  the  waves. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  I — I  cannot  go  much  farther.  Ah!  here  is  the 
boat — empty!  Clare  lost!"  His  hands  loosened  themselves  from  the 
boat  and  he  sank.  In  a  moment  more  the  second  boat  from  the  ship 
reached  him.  The  officer  commanding  it  cried:  "  Hearties,  he  went 
down  this  moment — here."  And  as  he  spoke,  Sir  Francis  rose  and 
grasped  the  empty  boat.  The  sailors  quickly  pulled  him  into  theirs,  but 
he  lay  lifeless. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?"  asked  the  officer. 

"Dead!"  the  men  replied,  and  sadly  and  in  silence  they  rowed 
to  the  ship. 


Chapter  XV. 

Poor  Clare  and  the  gentle  Beatrice  were  stowed  away  in  hiding 
places  for  three  long  months,  only  coming  on  deck  at  night,  when  the 
passengers  were  all  asleep,  and  the  captain  had  retired.  Clare  knew 
nothing  of  Sir  Francis'  effort  to  save  her,  and  how  he  nearly  lost  his 
life,  and  how  the  doctor  had,  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  resuscitated 
him. 

The  ship  was  near  her  journey's  end,  and  all  was  joyous  bustle  and 
excitement.  The  poor  girls  could  hear  it,  and  it  made  them  feel  so  sad 
and  lonely  that  they  could  not  stand  upon  the  deck  and  watch  the 
nearing  shore.  But  Truman  and  the  sailors  did  all  in  their  power  to 
make  them  comfortable  and  to  feel  less  lonely.  They  would  bring 
them  sailor's  knots  made  of  different  colored  ribbons,  little  articles 


SECRETS    TOLD.  181 

whittled  out  of  wood,  rings  made  of  coal  and  bone.  The  last  presents 
they  brought  were  two  little  ships,  perfect  in  construction,  and  named 
after  them.  Truman  had  bought  them  a  couple  of  warm  shawls  from 
some  of  the  passengers,  and  each  day  had  supplied  them  with  good 
food,  and  nuts,  and  dried  fruit,  and  took  them  on  the  deck  at  night. 
They  were  very  grateful,  and  his  name  was  wafted  up  to  heaven  with 
their  every  prayer. 

The  ship  landed  at  the  dock,  and  after  all  the  passengers  were 
ashore  and  the  men  were  busy  bringing  out  the  freight,  Truman,  with 
Clare  and  Beatrice,  left  the  ship. 

Clare  had  written,  by  Truman's  advice,  a  letter  to  her  mother,  tell 
ing  her  of  her  escape,  and  to  come  for  her,  at  a  certain  obscure  inn,  in 
a  close  carriage  and  at  night,  so  as  not  to  risk  a  re-arrest. 

The  inn,  the  Golden  Hen,  was  in  a  small  street  not  far  from  the 
Dudley  mansion.  She  had  asked  Truman  to  find  one  as  near  there  as 
possible.  Beatrice  was  to  return  in  a  ship  that  sailed  for  Australia  in 
an  hour,  so  now  they  had  to  part. 

"  Truman,  you  have  been  a  kind,  true  friend  ;  take  my  little  watch, 
and  let  its  ticking  always  remind  you  how  grateful  I  feel  for  the  good 
you  have  done  to  a  poor,  unhappy  girl,  who,  but  for  you,  would  now  be 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea."  She  grasped  his  hand  and  covered  it  with 
tears  and  kisses  ;  and  he,  poor  fellow,  turned  away  his  head  and  wiped 
his  eyes  upon  his  sleeve. 

Then  the  two  girls  clasped  each  other  in  a  close  embrace. 

"  Oh  !  dear  Clare,  it  makes  me  so  unhappy  to  leave  you.  I  thought 
at  least  to  see  you  safe  with  your  mother.  But  my  father  must  be 
suffering,  for  I  am  his  only  daughter  and  he  loves  me  dearly  ;  but  I 
left  a  letter  for  him,  saying  how  my  deep  affection  for  you  compelled 
me  to  aid  in  your  escape,  and  that  I  would  return  on  the  first  vessel 
that  sailed  after  seeing  you  safe  in  England." 

"Good-by,  Beatrice,  and  believe  your  love  is  not   wasted,  for  you 


182  SECRETS    TOLD. 

occupy  the  place  next  my  mother  and  Sir  Francis."  She  pressed  on 
her  finger  her  beautiful  diamond  ring.  "Those  stones  are  not  more 
enduring  than  my  love  for  you,  and  their  brightness  will  sooner  fade 
than  my  gratitude."  Once  more  they  embraced,  promising  to  write 
soon  and  often.  Then  Truman  put  Clare  into  a  cab,  and,  in  a  mo 
ment,  amid  tears  and  kisses,  the  friends  who  had  been  for  three  long 
months  all  the  world  to  each  other,  were  parted. 


Chapter   XVI. 

It  was  night,  and  Sir  Francis  and  Elmer  were  on  their  way  to  Lady 
De  Mille's.  She  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  him,  and  he 
had  been  forced,  though  unwillingly,  to  consent. 

"We  will  tell  Lady  De  Mille  we  saw  the  Lady  Clare  in  health  and 
as  beautiful  as  ever,"  said  Sir  Francis. 

"  And  how  sorry  we  are  that  we  bring  no  hopes  of  a  speedy  release." 

"  The  poor  girls  in  the  boat,  who  could  they  have  been  ?"  and  he 
looked  intently  in  Elmer's  face.  She  starting  slightly,  said: 

"Why  how  should  I  know  ?'' 

"The  captain  was  a  villain  to  countermand  his  orders." 

"Yes,  after  I  had  spoken  to  him,  too." 

"Could  I  have  been  mistaken?"  he  thought.  "You  had  spoken  to 
him  ?" 

"Yes,  did  you  not  see  us?"  He  had  been  so  intent  on  watching 
her,  that  he  had  unconsciously  slacked  his  pace,  and  they  were  now 
walking  slowly.  It  was  a  rather  common  part  of  the  town,  the  street 
they  were  now  on,  filled  with  cheap  shops  and  pawnbroker's  places, 
those  friends,  though  hard  ones,  of  the  poor. 

Clare  found  on  her  arrival  at  the  inn,  that  she  had  only  sufficient 


SECRETS   TOLD.  183 

money  to  pay  the  cab  hire,  and  when  night  came,  and  still  she  heard 
nothing  from  her  mother,  she  decided  to  search  for  a  pawnbroker's — a 
place  she  had  read  about  in  novels,  and  had  seen  from  her  carriage 
window — but  to  enter  one!  Her  heart  sank  at  the  thought;  but 
necessity  compelled  her,  so  with  the  shawl  that  Truman  gave  her,  over 
her  head,  she  crept  along  the  streets,  like  any  other  poor  wretch.  Thus 
it  was,  on  nearing  the  shop  she  was  looking  for,  she  saw  her  lover  and 
Lady  Elmer.  She  started  in  horror. 

"Oh!  they  are  together!     She  is  trying  to  rob  me  of  his  love!" 

"See  how  that  woman  is  watching  us.  Can  her  qjDJect  be  robbery?" 
whispered  Elmer  tightening  her  hold  on  Sir  Francis'  arm.  Clare 
stepped  back. 

"No;  'tis  some  poor  woman  seeking  the  pawnshop,  most  likely, 
whom  we  have  frightened  away/' 

"Do  you  think  so  ?    I  am  quite  nervous  since  that  dreadful  storm." 

"Poor  creature  !"  said  Sir'  Francis,  looking  at  Clare  ;  they  then 
walked  quickly  away. 

"He  pities  me  as  though  I  were  some  creature  of  the  streets  I"  and 
her  tears  came  thick  and  fast.  "Had  it  not  been  better  to  have  died 
that  night  in  the  glory  of  the  storm  ?  I  dare  not  reveal  myself  to  him, 
for  Elmer  would  discover  it  and  denounce  me.  Nothing  left  for  my 
present  support  but  the  little  money  I  may  get  for  my  mother's  por 
trait!"  and  she  took  it  from  her  bosom  and  kissed  and  talked  to  it. 
"Mother  you  will  forgive  me,  when  you  know  it  is  to  save  my  life. 
I  am  almost  afraid  to  go  into  this  shop;"  and  she  looked  into  the  win 
dow.  "The  man  is  so  fierce  looking;  will  he  try  to  harm  me?" 

As  she  stood  by  the  door,  undecided  whether  to  enter  or  not,  a 
young  ruffian,  half  thief  and  loafer,  accosted  her.  "Hi!  Runabout, 
what  you  got  there?  Give  it  me!"  and  he  snatched  at  the  long 
chain,  but  she  held  it  tightly,  and  uttering  a  slight  scream  she  cried: 

"I  need  it  to  get  bread!" 


184  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"Then  come  in  and  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  Uncle;  he'll  give 
you  mor'n  a  bob  and  a  tanner  for  that  trinket!"  and  he  caught  hold 
of  her  arm. 

"Oh!  let  me  go,  do,  you  frighten  me." 

"Come,  come,  none  of  your  slack,  or  I'll  take  that  trinket  to  pay  up." 

"Oh !  let  me  go !"  and  with  a  sudden  movement  she  got  her  arm 
away,  and  ran  round  the  corner. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  didn't  I  frighten  that  gal  ?  Am  I  so  jolly  ugly 
lookin'  ?  Say,  old  Fagan,  come  here.  I've  lost  you  a  customer,  I 
have.  Ha!  ha!  Jia!"  The  old  man  came  to  the  door,  very  angry. 

"Vat  for  you  do  that  ?  and  vat  for  you  call  me  old  Fagan  ?" 

'•Because  you  look  like  an  old  fellow  of  that  name  IVe  heard  of." 

"Vat  for  you  drive  my  customers  away,  hey  ?" 

"She's  got  a  stunnin'  trinket — a  picture  with  real  pearls  and  dia- 
mants  round  it.  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  see  how  you'd  cheat  her,  so  I 
offered  her  an  introduce,  but  your  ugly  phiz  frightened  her  away. 
Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"Vat  for  you  lie  so  ?  She  no  see  me;  vat  for  you  slay  about  my 
shop  frightening  nice  ladies  away  ?  You  go,  or  I  call  a  police." 

"You  old  lummicks!  Is  that  all  the  thanks  I  get  for  trying  to  bring 
you  a  customer  ?  The  next  shirt  or  coat  you  get  from  me  for  a  three 
penny  bit,  you  can  put  in  your  eye,  and  still  see  to  cheat  as  well  as 
ever." 

"You — you — you  go,  now,  or  I  get  cross — very  much  angry!" 

"Who  cares  for  your  anger,  old  skinflint?  You  ought  to  brag  of 
your  shop,  for  everything  goes  in,  and  precious  little  comes  out." 

"You  mean  to  say  I  no  give  fair  price?  You  go  way  now!"  and  he 
became  very  angry. 

"You  know  you  are  an  old  cheat;  that's  what  makes  you  so  riley  !" 

"Police!  police!" 

"If  that's  your  game,  old  Surly,  I  won't  trouble  you  any  more  with 


SKCRF.TS    TOLD. 


185 


my  company.  Good-night,  old  Hunks!"  and  whistling,  he  sauntered 
away. 

''That  is  a  bad  young  man;  he  will  dance  on  a  cord  some  day,  if 
he  no  be  careful;  it  won't  be  under  his  feet,  eder,  but  just  under  his 
left  ear!"  and  chuckling  he  entered  his  shop. 

After  some  time,  Clare  returned,  and  looking  about,  thought: 

u  Is  he  gone  ?  I  do  not  see  him;  why  did  he  annoy  me  so?  Should 
he  come  again  what  could  I  do?  But  I  must  be  courageous,  or  have 
no  where  to  stay  to-night." 

The  old  man  came  to  the  door  of  his  shop,  and  seeing  her,  said  in 
a  wheedling  voice: 

"Come  in  my  little  teer!  Vat  have  you  got  purty  to  show  me? 
Come  in;  I  always  pays  goot  prices?" 

"It  is  my  mother's  portrait — I — I  do  not  wish  to  sell  it  only  to  leave 
it  as  security  for  what  money  you  will  let  me  have." 

"Oh!  it's  a  purty  lady!     Vat  is  des  around  it?     Little  bits  of  glass?" 

"No,  sir;  they  are  diamonds  and  pearls." 

"Imitation,  you  mean!"  and  he  looked  over  his  spectacles  scrutin- 
izingly. 

"No,  sir,  real;  it's  a  gift  from  my  dear  mother;  please  say  what 
money  you  can  loan  me." 

"Veil,  not  much,  not  much." 

"But  how  much  ?" 

"Veil,"  and  he  rubbed  his  chin  contemplatively,  "three  shillings!" 

"Oh!  sir,  that  would  scarcely  pay  a  night's  lodging." 

"  Veil,  money  ish  scarce  ;  worth  ten  per  cent,  a  month  ;  very  scarce. 
Veil,  I  vill  be  very  goot,  for  you  are  a  nice  lady ;  I  give  you  five 
shillings." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  Then  I  must  go  somewhere  else  ;  and  as  she  still 
had  hold  of  the  long  chain,  she  tried  to  draw  the  locket  from  his 
his  hand. 


186  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"  Eh  ?  Perhaps  you  stole  him!"  and  he  jerked  the  chain  from  her 
grasp,  and  called  quickly,  but  not  in  a  very  loud  voice,  "police !  police  1" 

"Oh!  don't — don't  call  the  police;    I  will  take  anything." 

"  I  ought  to  call  the  police,  but  I  am  a  goot  man — got  tender  heart 
— here's  five  shillings." 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  will  come  for  it  again  and  give  you  guineas  for 
your  trouble  !"  and  Clare  almost  ran  back  to  the  inn,  while  the  old 
man,  rubbing  his  hands  and  chuckling,  re-entered  his  shop  on  the 
alert  for  another  victim. 


Chapter  XVII. 

Willet  and  Cubby's  little  romance  had  come  to  a  climax,  that  is  a 
dramatic  climax  ;  they  had'  got  married.  They  were  enacting  a  little 
domestic  scene  in  the  grand  hall  that  led  to  the  drawing  room  in  the 
Dudley  mansion.  There  was  a  magnificent  ball  and  party  going  on  in 
honor  of  the  Lady  Elmer's  safe  return. 

Willet  was  one  of  those  coquettish  wives  who  like  to  display  their 
power  over  their  husbands,  so  she  accidentally,  apparently,  dropped  her 
handkerchief,  and  called,  "Cubby!" 

"Yes,  dear,"  and  he  came  to  her  side  with  a  series  of  quick  little 
steps,  that  showed  a  slight  fear,  mingled  with  his  love. 

"My  handkerchief." 

"  Yes,  love  ;  and  with  the  same  quick  step  he  brought  it  to  her. 

"  Thank  you.     How  long  have  we  been  married,  dear  ?" 

"  Seven  days!"  and  he  unconsciously  sighed. 

"Cubby!"  reproachfully,  "  why  do  you  sigh?" 

"From — from  excess  of  joy,  love!"  he  answered  quickly. 

"Ah!  then  please  give  your  joy  a  more  pleasant  expression." 


SECRETS    TOLD.  187 

"Yes,  love.     Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"Cubby !  This  is  an  occasion  on  which  you  can  show  yourself  the 
loving,  obedient  husband.  This  is  an  occasion  on  which  to  make  me 
envied  even  by  my  betters;  for  who  possesses  a  loving  obedient  hus 
band  without  being  proud  of  him.  And  you're  a  good-looking  man, 
too !"  she  took  his  arm,  and  walked  a  few  steps,  he  looked  silily 
pleased,  "and  appear  better  smiling  than  sighing,"  and  she  patted  his 
cheek.  "I've  a  secret  to  tell  you;  I  have  perceived  your  fine  business 
qualities,  so  am  going  to  let  you  invest  to  the  best  advantage,  some 
little  savings  of  mine." 

"I  didn't  know  I  married  an  heiress!"  said  Cubby,  quite  proud. 

"And  now,  dear  Cubby,  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  favor — use  all  your 
influence,  which  is  great,  I  know,  to  bring  about  a  match  between  my 
lady  and  your  master;  then,  dear,  we  shall  not  be  separated  again, 
and  with  both  our  perquisites,  in  a  few  years  we  can  start  in  bus 
iness  for  ourselves  and  be  independent. " 

"Then  you're  not  a  woman's  rights  man?" 

She  laughed  merrilly.  "Did  you  think  so  because  I  wanted  an 
obedient  husband  ?  Oh!  we  ladies  all  like  that,  yet  you  shall  always 
be  the  business  man;  but  the  house,  you  know,  must  be  my  kingdom." 

"Give  us  a  kiss  to  bind  the  bargain!''  and  he 'gave  her  an  old- 
fashioned  kiss  or  rather  hug,  putting  his  arms  around  her  neck  and 
squeezing  her. 

"Cubby,  fix  my  ruff." 

"Yes,  love." 

"Thank  you!"  and  they  went  to  their  respective  duties,  proud  and 
happy. 


188  SECRETS    TOLD. 


Chapter  XVIII. 

From  the  street,  the  house  illuminated  in  every  window,  the  garden 
hung  with  Chinese  lanterns,  the  elegantly  dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen 
visible  in  the  drawing  room,  made  a  very  pretty  picture;  so  thought 
the  bad  young  man  Dick,  who  had  so  frightened  poor  Clare.  He  had 
quietly  stolen  in  the  back  way,  to  get  a  nearer  view. 

"My  heyes!  ain't  this  a  stunnin'  show?"  thought  he,  as  he  peeped 
into  the  long  French  window  that  opened  on  to  the  balcony,  but  a 
few  feet  from  the  rising  lawn.  ''Shouldn't  I  like  to  have  one  of  them 
angels  in  silk  for  a  pard  in  a  few  steps  of  the  mazurk,"  and  as  the 
music  sounded  tantalizing  and  inspiring,  he  took  his  coat  tails  in  his 
hands  and  had  a  little  dance  on  the  green  all  by  himself.  When  the 
music  and  dancing  ceased,  the  servants  handed  around  ices  and  sher 
bet,  and  Dick  smacked  his  lips,  saying,  "Hi!  but  I'd  like  to  be  in 
there!"  then  as  Lady  Downington  came  on  the  balcony,  he  thought, 
"some  one  coming.  I  must  make  myself  scarce!"  and  he  did  so,  as 
Lady  Downington  called  : 

"Jonquil!  Jonquil!  Where  can  he  be?  The  night  air  will  injure 
this  poor  darling.  Jonquil!  I  say!''  And  Jonquil,  coming  from  the 
side  of  the  house  where  several  of  the  servants  had  been  watching  the 
dancers  and  gossipping,  reported  : 

"Here,  my  lady." 

''Where  have  you  been  ?  I've  been  calling  and  calling  you.  Mas 
ter  '  Pinkette '  will  be  quite  ill  breathing  this  night  air  on  an  empty 
stomach;  take  him  to  the  pantry  and  give  him  of  the  best  you  can 
procure. " 


SECRETS   TOLD.  189 

"Yes,  my  lady."  And  she  leaned  over  the  balcony  railings  and 
placed  the  dog  tenderly  in  his  arms,  saying:  "Now  be  very  careful." 

"Yes,  my  lady;"  and  he  disappeared  from  her  view,  as  she  entered 
the  ball  room  again,  saying  : 

"That  man  is  invaluable." 

Each  night  Clare  had  stolen  from  the  little  inn,  and  watched  the 
Dudley  mansion.  She  had  seen  Sir  Francis  enter  several  times,  and 
her  heart  was  nearly  broken.  She  had  heard  nothing  from  her  mother, 
and  had  been  compelled  to  pawn  part  of  her  underclothes  to  enable 
her  to  live  this  long.  This  very  night  she  had  determined,  after  her 
watching  was  over,  to  seek  her  home  at  all  hazards,  and  see  what  was 
the  matter. 

She  entered  the  garden  as  the  musicians  came  from  the  house,  and 
some  of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  followed,  and  danced  on  the  smooth 
cut  grass;  Elmer  led  the  quadrille;  then  the  music  changed  into  a 
polka,  and  they  danced  into  the  house  again,  the  servants  enjoying  the 
sight  vastly.  And  Clare  watched. 

"How  happy  they  are  all  here,  while  I  am  in  such  misery.  He  is 
not  here  at  least.  Oh!  I  am  so  thankful  he  cherishes  my  memory, 
and  she  with  all  her  beauty  and  vast  wealth  cannot  fascinate  him  from 
me.  Life  is  still  endurable.  Who  of  my  old  time  friends  are  here?" 
and  she  went  to  the  window  and  looked  into  the  room. 

Sir  Francis  came  from  the  house,  to  indulge  in  thought  for  a  mo 
ment  in  quietness. 

"Can  I  be  mistaken  ?  Is  Lady  Elmer  innocent  ?  I've  watched  her  so 
closely  since  the  night  of  the  pretended  robbery,  yet  cannot  tell  by 
word  or  look,  what  is  in  her  heart.  Always  speaking  of  her  friend 
Clare,  and  urging  me  still  to  try  some  new  plan  to  effect  her  release. 
When  I  mention  the  poor  girls  in  the  boat,  she  seems  to  feel  so  sorry 
for  their  fate,  and  wonders  who  they  were,  when  I  know  her  glass  is 
more  powerful  than  mine,  and  their  features  must  have  been  quite 


190  SECRETS   TOLD. 

visible  to  her.  Was  the  resemblance  to  Clare  only  a  delusion  of  my 
brain  ?  If  it  were  only  so,  I  should  have  a  better  and  a  nobler  ob 
ject  in  life  than  trying  to  discover  a  woman's  treachery." 

Elmer  missed  him  immediately  and  soon  sent  Willet  with  a  mes 
sage.  She  readily  found  him,  and  courtesying,  said: 

"My  lord, 'my  lady  says  they  are  about  to  play  a  beautiful  sonatus  of 
Mosesheart  that  you  would  be  sorry  to  miss." 

With  all  his  grief  he  could  not  help  smiling. 

"A  sonata  of  Mozart's  you  mean." 

"I  expect  so,  sir;"  and  she  dropped  a  courtesy.  "I  knew  it  was 
something  with  a  heart  in  it;  and  it  is  a  pity,  sir,  that  some  gentlemen 
don't  have  more  heart  for  them  that  care  so  much  for  them."  And  she 
walked  quickly  into  the  house. 

"What  can  the  girl  mean?  Now  for  another  trial.  Will  it  never 
cease  ?"  And  Clare  saw  him  just  as  he  was  entering  the  door. 

"That  was  Sir  Francis.  What  does  he  here  in  this  gay  scene,  think 
ing  me  still  in  prison  ?  Has — has  he  ceased  to  love  me?"  Then  she 
looked  into  the  window  again.  "How  her  face  brightens  as  he  enters 
the  room.  Ah!  they  are  coming  to  this  window!"  and  she  crouched 
down  beneath  the  balcony.  As  the  music  began  they  came  out,  and 
Elmer  said: 

"Francis — Sir  Francis,  will  you  not  sit  here  and  enjoy  this  exquisite 
music  of  Mozart  ?" 

"Ah!  that  indeed  falls  soothingly  on  my  unhappy  heart." 

"Have  we  not  done  everything  in  our  power  ?  Then  why  indulge 
in  such  constant  melancholy  ?  It  is  not  kind  to  your  friends  who  love 
you  so." 

"I  am  not  satisfied.  I  shall  take  the  next  ship  that  sails  to  Aus 
tralia  and  ascertain  for  a  certainty  if  the  lady  is  safe.  Should  she  not 
have  perished  in  the  ocean,  for  I  fear  that  face  in  the  boat  was  no  de- 


SECRETS    TOLD.  191 

lusion,  I  will  remain  near  her  till  freedom  or  death  releases  her  from 
her  terrible  captivity." 

"Oh!  do  not  go,  Sir  Francis.  I — I — too,  have  suffered  so  much! 
Would  you  not  pity  a  woman  who  loved  so  intensely  that  she  had 
periled  her  soul  for  that  love?  I — I — " 

Clare  starting  up,  shrieked: 

"Oh!  I  am  betrayed!"  and  fell  insensible  to  the  earth. 


Chapter    XIX. 

Elmer  hearing  a  woman  had  fainted  in  the  garden  ordered  her  to 
be  taken  into  a  pleasant,  quiet  room  up  stairs  away  from  the  sound  of 
the  music  and  voices.  She  was  naturally  a  kind  hearted,  generous 
woman,  and  had  she  not  been  transformed  by  her  ill-fated  love,  the 
world  would  have  been  the  better  for  her  living  in  it. 

Clare  had  sunk  into  a  sleep  of  deep  exhaustion,  and  seeing  her 
comfortable,  the  servant  had  left  her.  But  now  it  was  morning  and 
the  sun  high  up;  still  Clare  slept  on;  it  was  the  first  time  for  so  many 
months  that  she  had  lain  in  a  bed  like  those  in  her  own  home.  When 
she  awoke  it  was  nearly  noon,  and  for  awhile  her  senses  were  confused. 

"  Have  I  been  ill,  or  dreaming  ?"  She  thought.  Then  she  raised 
herself  on  her  elbow.  "  Was  I  the  inmate  of  a  prison  escaping  with 
great  peril  ?  That  night  on  the  ocean;  was  it  real  or  only  delusion  ?  Oh! 
the  dreadful  shame  of  that  trial !  But  I  am  awake  now,  and  in  a  beau 
tiful  room.  This  is  not  my  mother's  house!  It  all  comes  back  to  me 
now!"  She  was  standing  on  the  floor  in  an  instant.  "I  am  in  the 
house  of  the  one  woman  of  all  the  world  who  is  my  enemy.  I  will 
hide  no  more,  leaving  her  free,  like  a  serpent  to  twine  around  his 

heart  and  steal  his  love  from  me.     I  will  denounce  her  for  the  wretch 
she  is!     Oh!  that  I  could  meet  her  face  to  face." 


192  SECRETS    TOLD. 

Elmer,  drawn  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  entered  the  room. 

"  My  maid  tells  me  you  rested  well  last  night.  I  trust  you  only 
feinted  from  fatigue.  Had  you  walked  far  ?" 

Clare  turned  and  faced  her,  saying  in  a  quiet,  intense  voice : 

"Do  you  not  know  me,  Elmer  Dudley?" 

But  she  shrieked  in  terror: 

"It  is  her  ghost!" 

"Ah!  your  conscience  speaks  at  last.     But  I  am  not  dead  yet." 

"Is  it  really  my  Clare  escaped  in  safety?"  and  she  went  quickly 
toward  her.  But  Clare  stepped  back,  saying: 

"Come  not  near;  your  touch  would  poison  me." 

"Oh!  my  dear  friend,  your  trouble  has  unnerved  you." 

'  'Your  friend !     And  how  have  you  deserved  that  title  from  me?" 

"Did  I  not  prove  my  friendship  by  going  all  those  weary  miles  to 
aid  in  your  release  ?"  But  Clare  laughed  bitterly. 

"Oh!  how  well  you  performed  your  mission  of  mercy!  You  be 
trayed  me  to  the  Governor  and  set  a  price  upon  my  head." 

"Oh,  my  poor  Clare!     Is  then  your  reason  clouded  at  last  ?" 

"Oh,  no;  I  am  quite  sane.  Even  that  night  on  the  terrible  ocean, 
nearly  perishing  with  thirst,  not  knowing  what  moment  we  might  be 
pursued,  and  I  taken  back  to  a  captivity  worse  than  death,  even  that 
night  did  not  obscure  my  mind  or  make  me  for  one  moment  forget 
my  heartless  wrongs." 

"Oh,  my  friend,  who  could  have  wronged  you  to  change  your  gen 
tle  nature  thus  ?" 

"Do  you  ask  me  ?  Oh,  arch  hypocrite,  what  had  I  done,  how  dark 
ened  your  life,  that  you  should  pursue  me  like  an  unrelenting  fiend  ?" 

"Have  a  care!  " 

"Too  late;  you  have  done  your  worst!" 

"Ah!" 

"On  that  night,  under  the  flimsy  pretext  that  you  were  robbed,  you 


SECRETS    TOLD.  193 

cast  a  shade  upon  that  honor  which  for  five  hundred  years  had  shone 
so  brightly.     Elmer  Dudley,  what  had  I  done  ?" 

"What  had  you  done  ?  I  will  tell  you.  With  your  soft  voice  and 
your  yellow  hair  you  had  stolen  away  that  heart  I  would  have  periled 
my  soul  to  gain." 

"Ah!  you  confess  it.  With  soft  words  you  drew  my  secret  from 
me,  then  you  turned  traitor  to  long  years  of  friendship;  you  forgot 
every  attribute  of  a  womanly  heart  to  banish  and  disgrace  me,  so  that 
Sir  Francis,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  grief,  would  accept  your  consola 
tion.  But  that  will  be  never." 

"Ah!  you  are  mistaken;  for  is  he  not  nightly  by  my  side,  hanging 
on  my  every  word,  envious  of  the  very  night  that  separates  us  ?" 

"False,  false,  as  your  guilt-stained  heart!" 

"Then  I  will  make  it  true!  I  will  give  you  back  into  the  clutches 
of  the  law — " 

"Ah!" 

"Should  you  again  escape,  I  will  hunt  you  from  every  place  of 
refuge,  and  follow  you  to  the  death !" 

"Perjured  woman,  though  you  should  make  me  suffer  a  thousand 
deaths,  you  can  never  gain  his  love;  for  in  his  heart  he  hates,  nay,  de 
spises  you  !" 

"You  shall  never  witness  it." 

"You  placed  the  diamonds  in  my  handkerchief.  You  bribed  the 
captain  to  leave  us  to  perish  on  the  ocean !  But  we  were  saved,  and 
I  am  here  to  denounce  you  to  his  face;  he  shall  see  what  a  monster 
would  claim  his  love!" 

"Help!  help!" 

"Perjurer!" 

"Help!  help,  to  secure  this  mad  woman." 

"Murderess!" 


194  SECRETS    TOLD. 

"Help!  help!"  and  Lady  Elmer  rushed  from  the  room  shrieking 
and  calling  for  help,  till  the  whole  house  was  aroused. 

Clare  stood  like  one  in  a  dream,  but  the  hurrying  footsteps  awoke 
her. 

"Ah!  she  will  have  me  secured  and  taken  to  a  mad  house!  then  I 
should  never  see  him,  and  he  would  be  in  the  power  of  that  fiend 
who  has  neither  conscience  nor  mercy;  that  shall  never  be!"  Then 
without  pausing,  as  the  footsteps  came  nearer,  she  sprung  from  the 
window,  and  falling  on  the  soft  earth  of  a  flower-bed,  was  only  slightly 
bruised  and  breathless;  in  a  moment  she  was  on  her  feet,  and  fleeing 
like  a  deer. 

But  Elmer,  whose  carriage  was  waiting  for  her,  hastily  ordered  the 
coachman  to  drive  to  the  nearest  police  station,  and  her  foot  was  on 
the  steps,  when  Clare,  dashing  from  the  window,  frightened  the  horses, 
who,  starting  madly,  threw  the  coachman  from  his  seat,  and  dragged 
her  to  the  gate,  where  striking  her  head  against  a  post,  the  horses 
flew  down  the  road,  leaving  her  bleeding,  crushed  and  senseless. 


Chapter   XX. 

In  the  horror  that  follows  a  dreadful  accident,  people  seem  stunned 
and  incapable  of  affording  that  help  their  ordinary  good  sense  would 
enable  them  to.  So  it  was  in  the  case  of  Lady  Elmer;  her  father  was 
absent,  and  the  servants  let  her  lay  where  she  was  thrown  for  some 
little  time;  one  of  them  even  suggested,  with  the  superstition  of  igno 
rance,  that  they  had  better  not  move  her  till  the  "  crowner  "  came. 
But  Willet's  wits  came  to  her  soonest,  and  she  had  her  carried  into 
the  nearest  room,  then  ran  for  Cubby. 

"Cubby  !  oh,  dear!  oh,  dear  !  what  a  dreadful  accident.     Cubby! 


SECRETS    TOLD.  195 

Cubby!  quick,  quick!"  But  he  not  having  heard  of  the  accident 
came  to  her  quite  leisurely. 

"What's  all  this  nojse  about,  Mrs.  Cubby?" 

"Quick,  you  lazy  man,  quick,  and  go  for  the  doctor." 

"What!  are  you  so  very  ill  ?" 

"Stupid !  don't  you  know  her  ladyship  is  nearly  killed  ?  That  Lady 
Clare  jumping  from  the  window  frightened  the  horses  just  as  her 
ladyship  was  on  the  carriage  step,  and  I  don't  know  how  many  limbs 
is  broken  ?" 

"Oh!  the  poor  lady!     We  handsome  sex  have  much  to  answer  for." 

"Yes — for  making  a — well  a  dunce  of  some  of  us.  But  are  you 
going  to  let  her  ladyship  die,  while  you  stop  here  to  praise  yourself?" 

"Well,  no;  as  it  isn't  you,  I  should  have  no  object." 

"Oh!  you  cruel  wretch!"  and  she  burst  out  crying.  "I'll — I'll  get  a 
divorce." 

"You  can't  my  dear.     I  never  treated  you  with  extreme  cruelty." 

"What!  not  cruel  to  wish  me  dead?" 

"Why,  my  dear,  how  you  misunderstand  a  man.  I  said  it  wasn't 
you  that  was  nearly  killed;  I  said — " 

"There  don't  stop  here  to  tell  me  what  you  said,  or  I'll  go  myself." 

"But—" 

"Go  along,  I  say,  or  it  may  be  too  late." 

"But—" 

"None  of  your  'buts'  but  go!"  and  she  put  his  hat  upon  his  head 
and  pushed  him  out  of  the  door.  <cWell,  some  men  are  as  stubborn 
as  mules,  and  have  as  large  ears,  too!"  She  would  liked  to  have 
made  Cubby's  a  little  larger,  too,  by  pulling,  but  suddenly  recollecting 
that  she  had  left  her  lady  insensible,  she  hurried  back  to  her,  forgetting 
all  her  own  petty  little  annoyances. 


II    w    **    *     *      *^^ 

v&nfeg* 


196  SECRETS    TOLD. 


Chapter  XXI. 

Lady  Clare  concealed  herself  till  night  came,  them  fled  to  her  own 
home.  But  no  loving  mother  awaited  her.  The  house  was  closed, 
dark  and  deserted.  What  should  she  do  ?  She  must  find  shelter  for 
the  night  without  exposing  herself  to  be  again  arrested.  So  she  stole 
around  to  the  back  of  the  garden  and  tried  the  little  gate.  What  was 
her  joy  to  find  it  open.  She  went  in  quickly  but  very  quietly,  up  the 
path  she  knew  so  well  and  under  the  beautiful  trees.  When  near  the 
house,  a  light  like  a  star  of  hope  shone  from  one  of  the  servants'  win~ 
dows.  She  rapped  gently  at  the  door,  but  no  one  opened  it;  she 
rapped  again  a  little  louder;  still  she  could  hear  no  movement  inside 
and  her  heart  sank  within  her.  Yet  she  would  not  give  up,  but  knocked 
once  more,  still  louder,  and  listened.  Soon  she  heard  the  sound  of  a 
pair  of  pattens;  she  knew  the  sound  and  her  heart  sent  up  a  prayer  of 
thanks;  it  was  her  old  nurse,  Ruth.  But  the  moment  the  door  was 
opened,  and  the  light  of  the  woman's  candle  fell  upon  her  face  she 
uttered  a  shriek. 

"Oh,  poor  Lady  Clare,  is  it  your  ghost  come  back  ?" 

"'Sh!  No,  Ruth,  let  me  in,  quick.  I  am  hungry,  hunted,  and 
so  faint  with  fatigue.  " 

"Oh,  my  poor  child!"  and  old  Ruth  closed  and  barred  the  door; 
then  putting  her  arm  around  her,  led  her  to  her  own  cosy  bedroom, 
where,  although  it  was  summer,  a  fire  was  burning.  "Now  don't  speak, 
dear,  till  I  give  you  a  cup  of  tea,  and  you  have  eaten  and  warmed 
yourself,  for  deary,  deary,  how  cold  you  are!"  and  the  old  lady  quickly 
spread  the  cloth,  and  taking  the  tea  from  the  hob,  where  it  stayed  from 
morning  till  night  always  ready;  then  cutting  some  bread,  she  quickly 


SECRETS    TOLD.  197 

toasted  it,  and  buttered  it  generously;  then  placing  cold  meat  and  jam 
upon  the  table,  she  pushed  it  close  to  Clare  and  bade  her  eat.  She 
was  so  hungry,  having  scarcely  eaten  anything  since  she  left  the  ship, 
that  she  obeyed  the  old  woman  like  a  docile  child.  She  was  so  faint 
and  weak  that  she  could  not  even  ask  about  her  mother.  She  took  the 
cup  eagerly,  but  her  poor  hand  trembled  so  that  she  nearly  let  it  fall. 

"Ah!  poor  dear!  you  shall  first  drink  a  little  of  my  home  made 
wine."  She  drank  a  glass,  then  ate  eagerly  of  the  food.  It  seemed 
to  her  a  banquet  for  the  gods!  Her  chilled  blood  was  warmed  and  her 
numbed  senses  aroused. 

"Ruth — " 

''Nay!  don't  talk  till  ye  have  drank  the  tea."  So  she  ate  a  little 
more,  and  drank  the  tea;  then  she  felt  stronger. 

"My  mother,  Ruth,  where  is  she?  Not  dead,  or  my  heart  would 
have  told  me." 

"No,  my  lady,  she  has  gone  to  India,  to  consult  your  brother  what 
to  do  for  you."  Then  Clare  told  her  how  she  had  made  her  escape, 
and  the  terrible  night  on  the  ocean — everything  except  the  scene  with 
Elmer  Dudley. 

"Now,  Ruth,  is  there  so  secret  room  in  this  old  mansion,  where  I 
could  go  in  case  of  danger  ?" 

"  No  really  secret  room,  but  there  is  a  room  that  no  one  but  the 
family  and  servant's  know  of;  it  has  no  windows,  only  a  small  skylight; 
the  door  is  very  low  and  concealed  behind  that  stately  old  oak  chair  in 
the  library." 

"  Oh  !  yes;  I  remember  hearing  that  it  led  to  an  old  lumber  room 
up  stairs.  But,  dear  Ruth,  I  shall  not  leave  you  till  danger  threatens. 
Now  I  will  write  to  my  mother,  telling  her  everything,  and  beg  her  to 
hasten  home  ;  then  I  will  go  to  bed,  for  I  am  very  tired."  So  she 
wrote  a  long,  loving  letter.  Then  Ruth  arranged  a  nice  soft  bed  for 
her  in  her  room,  and  told  her  not  to  fear,  for  she  would  be  near  her 


198  SECRETS    TOLD. 

all  night  long,  and  was  a  light  sleeper ;  the  least  noise  would  arouse 
her.  Then  she  stroked  her  hair,  till  she  fell  into  a  gentle  slumber,  and 
Calling  on  her  knees  she  thanked  Heaven  for  her  darling's  escape,  then 
kissing  her  gently,  she,  too,  went  to  rest. 


Chapter  XXII. 

At  Lady  Dudley's  five  of  the  finest  physicians  and  surgeons  of  Lon 
don  were  holding  a  consultation  over  the  injuries  of  Lady  Elmer. 
They  decided  that  it  would  not  be  necessary — at  least  they  did  not 
think  so  at  present — to  amputate  any  of  her  limbs,  though  she  was 
dreadfully  bruised  and  had  several  bones  broken. 

Lady  Elmer,  with  hearing  sharpened  by  intense  suffering  and  eager 
ness  to  know  her  fate,  heard  nearly  all  the  whispered  consultation,  and 
the  possibility  implied  that  she  yet  might  lose  a  limb,  made  her  hatred 
of  Lady  Clare  so  increase  in  strength  and  bitterness  that  she  hardly 
felt  the  terrible  pain.  The  family  doctor  asked  her  if  she  would  take 
chloroform  while  the  terrible  gash  in  her  forehead  was  being  sewed; 
she  replied  no;  she  could  endure  it.  But  when  he  saw  that  the  pain 
caused  her  to  press  her  teeth  so  deeply  into  her  lip  that  the  blood 
welled  up,  he  would  have  pressed  the  chloroformed  handkerchief  over 
mouth  and  nose  even  against  her  will;  but  the  scintillating  fire  of  her 
eyes  was  fixed  on  him  so  steadily  that  he  dared  not.  At  each  fresh 
pain  she  vowed  in  her  heart  to  have  a  terrible  revenge  upon  the  one 
who  caused  her  loss  of  soul,  and  almost  body,  too.  Then  they  set 
her  broken  leg,  but  not  a  groan  escaped  her;  her  pain  seemed  to  give 
her  a  fiendish  joy,  that  now  she  had  justification  for  any  cruelty  toward 
Lady  Clare.  The  room  was  darkened,  and  she  all  bandaged  and 
bound  up,  was  left  with  an  opiate,  and  some  one  to  watch  but  no* 
talk.  But  what  opiate  would  set  at  rest  a  brain  like  hers,  whose  heart 


SECRETS   TOLD.  199 

was  every  second  sending  thither  streams  of  wicked  blood,  keeping  it 
even  more  active  for  evil  than  it  had  been  for  months  before  ? 

Thus  she  lay  for  weeks  and  weeks  ;  though  crippled  and  helpless, 
her  will  still  ruled  the  whole  household.  She  told  her  father,  who  was 
a  mild,  loving  man,  completely  under  her  sway,  that  she  wished  two 
detectives  to  be  kept  constantly  watching  the  De  Mille  Mansion,  and 
if  Lady  Clare  was  seen  to  leave  or  enter,  or  any  indications  of  her 
presence  there  were  discovered,  she  should  be  immediately  informed. 

Willet  had  become  very  sympathetic  for  the  proud,  beautiful  lady 
who  suffered  so  intensely  for  love,  for  though  no  one  knew  what  had 
occurred  between  the  two  ladies,  yet  Clare  was  recognized  and  held 
responsible  for  Elmer's  dreadful  accident.  So  all  the  servants  became 
private  detectives,  and  whenever  they  had  an  afternoon  out,  were  sure 
to  pass  the  De  Mille  Mansion  to  see  what  they  could  discover;  and 
one  venturesome  and  romantic  young  chambermaid,  even  went  so  far 
as  to  ring  the  front  door  bell  on  some  pretended  errand,  but  no  one 
appeared,  although  she  waited  for  a  whole  quarter  of  an  hour. 

Sir  Francis  had  heard  all  the  servants'  gossip  from  Cubby,  who 
lived  a  part  of  his  time  with  his  wife  at  Lord  Dudley's.  He  pitied 
Lady  Elmer,  for  he  was  now  forced  to  believe  that  all  her  wickedness 
was  caused  by  her  love  for  him;  so  he  sent  his  card  twice  a  week  with 
wishes  for  her  recovery.  Each  time  she  received  it,  she  gnashed  her 
teeth  and  muttered: 

"He  does  not  love  me,  or  he  would  come."  Then  a  spasm  of  pain 
would  seem  almost  to  stop  the  beating  of  her  heart;  there  she  would 
lay,  deathly  pale  and  quivering,  till  Willet,  becoming  frightened, 
would  wet  her  face  with  cologne,  and  try  to  arouse  her. 

She  was  indeed  to  be  pitied,  for  a  woman  who  could  love  so  in 
tensely,  that  terrible  bodily  pain  became  almost  pleasure,  endured  for 
his  dear  sake,  that  guilt,  nay,  even  crime,  were  looked  upon  as  only 
means  to  the  yearned-for  end — where  death  itself,  would  have  been 


200  SECRETS   TOLD. 

accepted  with  more  than  a  martyr's  enthusiasm,  to  gain  from  him  one 
smile  of  returning  love — was  entitled  to  be  viewed  through  the  vail  of 
sweet  charity. 

At  length  her  wounds  were  healed,  and  she  was  allowed  to  sit  up 
some  hours  each  day;  but  the  beautiful  peace  that  the  convalescent 
feels;  the  dreamy  pleasure  only  to  view  the  changing  clouds;  the  lux 
ury  of  sitting  by  the  open  window  and  breathing  the  fresh  air;  the 
resurrection,  as  it  were,  seeing  the  world  which  had  been  dead  for 
many  weeks  alive  again;  the  indescribable  joy  of  life  and  returning 
health,  were  as  dross  to  her.  All  these  sweet  feelings  were  merged 
into  love  dangerously  fierce,  and  a  purpose  of  swift  and  dire  revenge. 

As  the  days  went  by,  and  she  found  that  she  was  a  cripple,  and 
would  most  likely  remain  one  through  life,  one  leg  being  shorter  than 
the  other,  and  her  side  and  arm  partially  paralyzed,  drawing  one  eye 
down  slightly,  her  rage  knew  no  bounds.  The  servants  fled  from  her 
presence,  and  even  Willet,  who  had  made  of  her  a  heroine  of  romance, 
gladly  hid  herself  in  some  closet.  The  scar  on  her  forehead  was  red 
and  fierce,  and  when  for  the  first  time  since  the  accident,  she  looked 
into  the  glass,  she  gave  a  scream  of  horror,  and  with  the  stick  she 
used  for  a  support,  she  shattered  it  to  pieces.  Her  father  coming  in, 
she  told  him  to  have  the  cruel  things  removed  from  every  parlor  and 
room  in  the  house,  or  she  would  serve  them  likewise. 

Never  once  in  all  her  long  weeks  of  pain,  had  a  thought  entered 
her  mind  against  herself.  The  feelings  of  love  and  revenge  had,  like 
a  simoom,  burnt  up  every  tender  feeling  of  a  woman's  heart,  and  left 
her  a  wreck  to  make  angels  weep.  One  day  she  said: 

"That  woman  is  at  her  home,  I  feel  it;  and  shall  she  enjoy  life  and 
love,  while  I,  who  have  lost  so  much,  am  living  in  a  mental  hell  ? 
Willet,  bring  me  word  to-night,  or  never  enter  this  house  again." 

Willet  dared  not  answer,  but  tremblingl}'  put  on  a  slight  disguise, 
and  went  to  do  her  bidding.  She  passed  and  repassed  the  De  Mi  lie 


SECRETS   TOLD.  201 

Mansion,  but  could  see  no  face  at  any  of  the  windows;  the  front  steps 
were  covered  with  dust,  and  grass  growing  in  the  pathways.  She  went 
to  the  back  gate,  and  her  heart  jumped  to  find  it  open.  She  went  in 
stealthily;  she  felt  like  a  thief — looked  everywhere,  but  could  see  or 
hear  nothing;  becoming  bolder,  she  tried  the  door,  but  it  was  locked; 
she  must  get  some  news  for  her  lady,  but  how  ?  After  thinking  and 
thinking,  she  determined  to  go  to  the  grocer's  where  they  dealt;  for  if 
the  Lady  Clare  was  at  home  she  must  eat,  and  as  two  would  eat  more 
than  one — the  detective  had  reported  that  the  house  was  in  charge  of 
an  old  woman,  she  could  find  out  if  more  than  usual  were  ordered, 
but  she  would  have  to  go  to  work  very  delicately;  so  selecting  a  clerk 
that  looked  good-natured  and  communicative,  she  asked  for  a  couple 
of  pounds  of  sugar,  some  coffee,  and  had  it  ground,  and  a  few  other 
things  that  took  time  to  put  up,  all  the  while  chatting  with  the  young 
man. 

"The  poor  Lady  Clare's  at  home  again!''  So  she  tried  to  find  out 
what  he  knew.  "Have  you  heard  how  she  is?" 

"Well,  now,  you  don't  say  so!  The  old  lady  that  has  been  mind 
ing  the  house  is  a  great  object  of  interest  to  us  all,  and  we  noticed 
that  lately  she  orders  more  delicacies — in  fact,  more  of  everything. 
So,  so,  the  poor  lady's  back  again.  Well,  well,  I'm  glad  of  it." 

Willet  had  learned  all  she  wanted,  so  hastened  home  and  reported 
to  Lady  Elmer,  whose  face  lit  up  with  triumph. 

"Ah!  now  I  can  have  my  revenge!  Can  the  mother  have  returned 
too  ?" 

"I  think  not,  my  lady. '' 

"Then  I  shall  have  to  wait.  Oh!  the  days  seem  years,  the  time 
passes  so  slowly.  Oh!  how  old  I  am!  Give  me  my  writing  mate 
rials." 

In  a  few  moments  Willet  had  a  letter  directed  to  Lady  Clare  De 
Mille,  and  was  on  her  way  to  post  it. 


202  SECRETS    TOLD. 


Chapter    XXIII. 

For  many  weeks  Lady  Clare  lived  in  perfect  seclusion.  When  the 
street  bell  rang  she  hastened  to  the  secret  room,  and  there  amid  old 
furniture,  worm  eaten  and  dusty,  the  silken  hangings  dropping  away 
piecemeal,  old  pictures  of  remote  ancestors  long  since  dead  and  for 
gotten,  whose  eyes  stared  at  her  in  the  semi-darkness,  trunks  of  old 
letters  and  boxes  of  musty  books,  she  would  sit  for  hours.  The  idea 
of  being  again  arrested,  was  her  haunting  terror.  The  cobwebs  and 
dust  of  years  covered  the  little  skylight  window;  it  was  a  weird,  ghostly 
place.  To  keep  herself  from  becoming  nervous  in  the  long  hours  of 
waiting  and  suspense,  she  would  read  the  old  letters.  The  correspon 
dence  of  each  writer  was  tied  in  a  separate  parcel,  with  little  bits  of 
dingy,  faded  ribbon. 

What  a  world  of  new  experience  the  old  trunk  opened  to  her!  For 
awhile  she  would  forget  her  own  trouble,  sympathizing  with  that  of 
another.  One  packet  of  letters  began  when  the  writer  was  a  young 
girl — clear,  delicate,  aristocratic  writing — then  came  her  marriage,  then 
trouble,  then  little  children  cheered  her.  The  letters  were  sometimes 
years  apart,  but  the  trouble  seemed  always  there;  then  the  writing  grew 
tremulous,  and  then  ceased.  Clare  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  thinking  how 
pleasant  it  must  be  for  kindly  death  to  relieve  one  from  terrible  misery 
or  trouble. 

One  thing  cheered  her — that  was  the  daily  receipt  of  a  loving  letter 
from  Sir  Francis.  She  always  answered  it,  but  begged  he  would  not 
come  to  see  her,  and  thus  expose  her  to  the  realization  of  her  terrible 
dread. 

He  had  sent  Lady  De  Mille  several  telegrams;  finally  one  inter 
cepted  her  on  her  journey,  and  she  hastened  back  with  all"  speed. 


SECRETS    TOLD.  203 

The  day  before  Lady  De  Mille  arrived,  Clare  was  all  excitement;  she 
had  just  received  Elmer's  letter.  It  said: 

"LADY  CLARE  DE  MILLE:  The  third  of  June  will  be  the  anniver 
sary  of  that  day  on  which  I  learned  that  which  has  wrecked  my  life.  I 
beg  you  will  have  all  your  friends  assembled,  and  as  many  of  mine  as 
witnessed  the  occurrences  of  that  night,  as  possible.  I  wish  to  do  an 
act,  without  the  performance  of  which  I  could  not  die  happy.  Your 
mother  will  have  returned  by  then,  and  can  make  every  preparation. 

"ELMER  DUDLEY." 

"Ah!  she  wishes  to  declare  my  innocence!  Her  sufferings  have 
softened  her  heart."  She  had  read  of  her  terrible  injuries  and  daily 
reports  of  her  health,  in  the  papers  Ruth  always  brought  her.  "  And 
now;  she  will  render  me  tardy  justice,  but  how  can  she  obliterate  the 
memory  of  the  pain  and  anguish,  the  shame,  she  has  caused  me  ?  But 
it  is  past  now,  and  I  will  only  think  of  the  future — the  happy  future! 
Poor  Elmer!  ,she,  too,  has  suffered.  If  I  could,  I  would  make  her 
well  again,  and  as  beautiful  as  ever.  What  does  she  say  ?  my  mother 
will  be  here?  Oh!  that  cannot  be  possible!  So  soon!  No,  it  is  too 
much  joy  for  one  day."  Then  she  called  Ruth,  and  told  her  the  good 
news.  She  was  so  excited,  that  she  laughed  and  cried  at  the  same 
moment;  then  throwing  herself  in  Ruth's  arms,  she  sobbed  as  though 
her  heart  would -break. 

"Don'tee,  dear,  don' tee  ;  your  troubles  will  soon  be  over.  Oh! 
don'tee,  or — or  I  shall  cry,  too!"  and  with  the  word  the  tears  came, 
and  so  they  relieved  their  over-burdened  hearts. 

"  There,  that  will  do,"  said  Clare,  wiping  her  eyes.  ' '  Now  I  feel 
like  another  Clare  ;  not  the  sad,  despondent  one  of  an  hour  ago,  but 
the  light-hearted,  happy  Clare  of  other  days."  Old  Ruth  smiled,  too, 
then  Clare  ran  away,  and  for  the  first  time  since  her  return,  she 
wandered  all  over  the  house,  into  every  room.  The  furniture  and 
ornaments  seemed  like  old  friends,  and  she  greeted  them  as  such.  In 


204  SECRETS   TOLD. 

her  mother's  room  she  sat  in  the  great  easy  chair  and  laid  her  cheek 
against  it." 

"  Dear  mother,  how  often  has  your  loved  head  rested  here,"  and 
she  kissed  the  insensate  covering,  "and  soon  it  will  again. "  And  her 
heart  sent  up  a  prayer  of  thanks  for  this  foretaste  of  happiness.  She 
even  ventured  to  take  a  hasty  glance  out  of  the  window,  which  hereto 
fore  she  had  avoided,  as  though  certain  death  would  have  been  the 
penalty  for  the  indulgence  of  her  curiosity.  But  now  the  terrible 
dread  seemed  to  lessen  as  the  time  of  the  vindication  of  her  innocence 
drew  near,  for  who  could  wish  her  re-arrest,  when  Elmer  herself  had  re 
pented  the  wrong  she  had  done  her  ?  How  beautiful  the  garden  looked! 
The  weeks  of  neglect  had  only  enhanced  its  wild  luxuriance.  The 
mignonette,  gilly  flower,  and  heliotrope  filled  the  air  with  the  most 
delicious  and  grateful  of  perfumes.  Gorgeous  butterflies  seemed  to 
have  come  from  all  parts  of  the  island,  to  make  this  quiet,  undisturbed 
spot  their  home.  The  birds  sang  on  the  trees  in  a  fearless  way  she 
had  never  known  before.  When  her  mother  returned,  it  would  be 
indeed  home  to  her,  more  valued  and  appreciated  than  ever. 

Old  Ruth  now  ventured  to  pick  a  nosegay  for  her  dear  child;  and 
never  were  flowers  that  did  not  come  from  a  lover  so  caressed  and 
talked  to.  Had  she  known  the  day  on  which  her  mother  was  to  re 
turn,  she  would  have  had  each  room  bright  with  these  sweet  children  of 
the  sunshine,  for  some  hearts  love  them  with  such  peculiar  tenderness, 
that  it  is  almost  pain  to  pluck  them  from  their  parent  stems,  and  as 
for  wantonly  hurting  or  destroying  them,  they  would  as  soon  think  of 
hurting  a  little  child. 

This  night  she  slept  so  peacefully,  without  those  fearful  starts  wak 
ing  her,  bathed  in  perspiration  and  seeing  handcuffs,  prisons  and 
chains,  till  sleep  had  become  almost  a  torture.  In  the  morning  she 
wrote  to  Sir  Francis;  telling  him  how  happy  she  was,  and  all  that  El 
mer  was  going  to  do;  for  in  her  heart  she  did  not  doubt  but  that  she 


SECRETS    TOLD.  205 

was  about  to  make  her  all  the  reparation  in  her  power  for  what  she 
had  caused  her  to  suffer.  Then  laying  a  slip  of  scented  lemon  and 
one  of  heliotrope  within  the  letter,  she  kissed  it  and  soon  it  was  in  the 
hands  of  her  delighted  lover.  But  he  almost  doubted  the  reality  of 
Elmer's  sudden  repentance,  yet  it  was  not  impossible,  as  intense  pain 
has  often  been  known  to  soften  the  heart. 

Later  in  the  day,  when  a  carnage  rolled  up  to  the  door  and  Lady 
De  Mille  alighted,  Clare  could  scarely  restrain  herself  from  rushing 
down  the  stairs,  out  to  the  gate  and  into  her  mother's  arms. 

What  a  meeting  was  theirs  !     Not  to  be  described,  only    to  be  felt. 

The  servants  all  came  flocking  back,  as  if  summoned  by  magic,  and 
there  was  sweeping  and  scrubbing  and  dusting;  and  boxes  and 
baskets  and  hampers  arrived  each  hour.  All  seemed  joyous  bustle 
and  confusion.  Dainty  notes  were  sent  all  over  the  city,  and  gossip 
said  the  De  Milles  were  going  to  give  a  magnificent  party,  and  gossip 
wondered  if  the  Lady  Clare  had  been  pardoned,  and  if  she  hadn't  been 
it  was  a  burning  shame  that  her  mother  could  be  so  gay  and  her 
daughter  in  prison.  And  if  she  had  been,  they  would  like  to  know 
why  poor  women  were  left  to  serve  out  their  long  terms,  and  the  rich 
let  off  thus  easily. 

Still  the  preparations  went  on,  yet  no  one  saw  the  Lady  Clare  and 
friends  and  enemies  alike  wondered  what  was  to  be  the  end. 

For  several  days  she  had  not  heard  from  Sir  Francis,  and  only  that 
she  had  perfect  faith  in  him  her  heart  would  have  been  troubled. 

"It  is  all  for  the  best,"  she  would  say  to  herself  gently.  "  He  is 
thinking  of  me  and  perhaps  even  now  doing  something  for  rny  good." 
Her  mother  encouraged  her  in  this  belief,  so  that  since  the  arrival  of 
Elmer's  letter,  she  had  not  had  an  unhappy  moment. 

And  it  was  the  eve  of  the  grand  party. 


206  SECRETS    TOLD. 


Chapter  XXIV. 

The  carriages  were  arriving  rapidly.  The  beautiful  De  Mille 
Mansion  was  transformed  from  the  deserted,  neglected  pile  of  the  last 
few  months,  into  a  fairy  palace  of  light,  flowers,  perfume  and  music. 
In  the  ladies'  dressing-room  was  a  bevy  of  beautiful  women,  indulging 
in  the  fashionable  pastime,  gossip. 

Gossip  is  a  much  maligned,  scandalized  goddess.  She  has  her  uses 
but  not  her  abuses;  for  when  gossip  ceases,  there  is  silence;  what  the 
world  considers  her  abuses  is  something  very  different  altogether — 
scandal  or  twaddle. 

Gossip  is  intellectual  food,  brightening  our  daily  life,  raising  our 
thoughts  above  the  little  corroding  annoyances,  strengthening  us, 
polishing  off  the  rust  accumulated  by  constant  communion  with  unde 
veloped  intellects.  Gossip  is  the  kindly  interest  in  our  neighbor's 
affaiis,  that  would  not  prompt  a  word  to  harm,  that  only  likes  to 
praise  and  please;  the  interchange  of  ideas  developed  by  different 
circumstances,  the  gathering  of  information — useful  information  that 
no  books  can  teach  us. 

Beautiful  goddess!  Men  love  thee,  even  better  than  thy  humble 
sisters,  women;  they  spend,  too,  more  time  in  thy  worship,  smoking 
fragrant  incense  at  thy  shrine,  but  coward-like,  they  call  thee  Business 
and  Tobacco! 

One  gentle  girl,  the  Lady  Annie,  said  to  a  beauty  by  her  side  : 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  the  Lady  Clare  is  back  again.  She  is  so  sweet 
and  lovely." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  ?"  asked  the  other  eagerly. 

"  No;  but  she  must  have  returned,  or  why  this  party  ?" 

"Has  she  been  seen  by  any  one  you  know  ?"  She  replied  in  the 
negative.  "How  strange!  neither  have  I  heard  of  any  one  who  has 


SECRETS   TOLD.  207 

seen  her."  Thus  they  talked  on  for  some  time,  coming  to  no  con 
clusion  but  that  it  was  very  strange,  and  they  were  curious  to  know 
how  it  would  end. 

"But  I  saw  Lady  Elmer;  you  remember  how  beautiful  she  was  ?" 
A  nod  in  reply,  "Well,  she  is  not  even  passable  now.  I've  heard  hints 
of  what  frightened  the  horses,  but  nothing  definite  enough  to  satisfy 
curiosity,  so  I  am  here  to-night  ready  for  any  romantic  adventure  to 
occur!"  and  the  beauty  drew  on  her  long  kid  glove. 

In  the  garden  Lady  Downington  and  her  dog,  attended  by  her 
faithful  courtier,  Butterfly,  paused  a  few  moments  before  entering  the 
house. 

"Well,  Butterfly,  this  is  the  most  tantalizing  affair  I  was  ever  en 
gaged  in.  Of  course,  I  don't  ask  you  to  love  Lady  Elmer  any  longer, 
knowing  how  fond  you  are  of  beauty." 

"No,  no;  I — I  should  be  afraid  of  her!  She  looks  so  fierce  in 
her  carnage."  This  was  the  longest  sentence  his  lordship  had  been 
ever  known  to  say,  and  this  was  brought  out  by  fright,  thinking  Lady 
Downington  might  insist  on  his  marrying  Elmer,  whether  or  no. 

"Ahem !     Butterfly,  what  do  you  think  of  Lady  Clare  ?" 

"Oh!  ah!  that  would  be  so — so  romantic!"  But  Lady  Downington 
did  not  know  if  her  match-making  powers  were  equal  to  this,  so  she 
said  no  more  on  that  subject. 

"Well,  Butterfly,  Lady  Elmer  will  be  here  to-night  and  perhaps  she 
will  not  look  as  bad  as  we  think;  it  was  in  a  dim  light  that  I  saw  her. 
She  urged  me  to  come  to-night,  why,  I  cannot  tell;  it  can't  be  to  meet 
Lady  Clare,  for  I've  heard  nothing  of  her  pardon.  Well,  we  shall 
soon  unravel  the  mystery.  Let  us  go  in;"  and  Lady  Downington 
joined  the  other  ladies  in  the  dressing  room.  From  the  moment  of 
her  entrance,  there  was  no  lack  of  twaddle  with  an  occasional  sprink 
ling  of  something  crueller. 

Clare  was  in  her  room,  pale  as  the  costly  dress  she  wore.     ''What 


208  SECRETS   TOLD. 

does  it  mean  ?"  she  thought.  "No  word  from  Sir  Francis  and  in  a 
few  moments  I  must  be  in  the  ball  room.  Elmer,  too,  has  she  at  last 
succeeded  and  stolen  him  from  me?  No,  I  will  not  have  an  unkind 
thought  against  him!"  Her  mother  came  in,  and  kissing  her,  said: 

"Dear  child,  do  not  look  so  sad.  Remember  this  is  the  last  night 
of  your  dreadful  trouble;  then  Sir  Francis  shall  wait  no  longer  for  his 
bride." 

"That  is  it;  why  have  we  not  heard  from  him  ?  Why  is  he  not 
here  ?  Oh!  mother,  if  he  is  false,  this  night  would  indeed  end  all  my 
troubles!"  But  the  mother  kissed  and  petted  her,  saying: 

"  Bear  up  only  a  few  hours  more,  darling,  then  if  our  hopes  are 
not  realized,  it  will  be  time  enough  for  despair.  But  you  really  ought 
to  rejoice,  for  Sir  Francis  is  without  doubt  engaged  in  one  more  effort 
for  our  benefit.  Will  you  not  come  into  the  drawing-room  ?" 

"  Not  yet,  dear  mother;  how  could  I  bear  the  congratulations  of 
our  friends,  for  what  ?  Not  till  Sir  Francis  or  Elmer  Dudley  comes  to 
declare  my  innocence,  will  I  expose  myself  to  such  humiliation.  Go 
you  and  leceive  our  guests;  but  the  moment  they  arrive  send  me  word, 
and  I  will  come  down." 

So  Lady  De  Mille  went  to  the  drawing-room,  and  received  her 
guests  with  smiling  graciousness,  though  her  heart  bled  for  poor  Clare 
up  stairs.  The  company  were  too  well  bred  to  even  hint  she  had  a 
daughter,  but  they  wondered,  and  wondered,  and  wondered,  and  the 
time  flew  by. 

Not  wishing  to  have  any  of  these  awkward  pauses  that  give  so  much 
latitude  for  surmise,  Lady  De  Mille  led  the  dance  herself. 

"Lady  Downington,  please  tell  me  why  we  are  here  to-night  ?"  asked 
the  Lady  Annie. 

"Well,  child,  you  are  asking  more  than  I  can  tell.  I  supposed  it 
was  to  congratulate  the  Lady  Clare  on  her  release,  but  I  see  I  was  mis 
taken,  as  she  has  not  even  been  mentioned,  let  alone  seen." 


SECRETS   TOLD,  209 

"Oh!  I  am  so  disappointed.  But  why  did  her  mother  give  this 
party  then  ?  Do  you  suppose  she  expected  her  also,  and  is  more  bit 
terly  disappointed  than  any  of  us  ?" 

"It  is  not  too  late  for  something  to  happen  yet.  I  cannot  think  all 
these  costly  and  elegant  preparations  were  made  only  to  give  the  old 
lady  a  chance  to  dance.  But  I  like  to  dance  myself,  so  excuse  me  till 
I  put  this  little  darling  into  safe  hands,  then  I  shall  join  the  next  quad 
rille/'  Then  Lady  Annie  sought  the  beauty.  She  was  beginning  to  feel 
so  sorry  for  the  poor  mother,  who  could  not  hide  how  eagerly  she 
watched  the  door,  and  whose  face,  when  the  smile  for  a  moment  de 
parted,  looked  as  if  drawn  by  pain. 

"Is  it  not  too  bad  ?"  she  said.     "What  can  have  happened  ?" 

"Oh,  there  will  be  a  denouement  yet!"  the  beauty  replied. 

But  when  the  hours  flew  by,  and  supper  was  announced,  the  surprise 
and  wonder  knew  no  bounds;  yet  Lady  De  Mille  smiled  and  sat  at 
the  head  of  her  table. 

Up  stairs  Clare  counted  the  moments  by  heart-throbs.  "Will  they 
never  come  ?  Oh!  I  shall  die,  I  shall  die!" 

Her  nerves  were  strung  to  such  a  high  tension,  that  it  seemed  the  least 
shock  would  break  them,  and  leave  her  a  quivering  thing  of  beauty 
without  a  mind. 

She  heard  the  rustling  garments,  as  the  ladies  came  from  supper; 
she  heard  the  servants'  gossip  on  the  stairs;  she  heard  the  exquisite 
music,  as  the  dancers  danced;  she  heard  that  same  lovely  sonata  of 
Mozart's.  She  could  have  shrieked  in  agony.  As  the  last  strains  died 
away,  the  servant  announced  in  the  distance,  but  to  Clare  it  seemed 
shouted  in  her  ears  in  stentorian  tones — - 

"Lady  Elmer  Dudley!" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  shook  out  her  dress,  gave  a  hasty  glance  in 
the  mirror — she  was  Eve's  daughter — and  in  a  moment  she  stood 


210  SECRETS   TOLD. 

within  the  drawing  room  door,  where  Elmer  was  bowing  to  the  com 
pany. 

Oh!  what  a  wreck  she  looked!  Where  was  all  her  proud  beauty? 
Where  the  fascinating  glance  ?  Where  the  queenly  dignity  ?  Alas! 
even  Clare  .pitied  her,  and  a  murmur  ot  sympathy  for  her  dreadful 
misfortune  filled  the  room. 

"  My  friends,  this  is  my  birthday.  You  all  know  what  happened 
one  year  ago  to-night.  You  all  know  how  I  tried  to  save  my  friend 
— went  to  Australia,  offered  my  fortune,  periled  my  life!  You  see 
me  now  this  dreadful  wreck — this  poor,  pitiful  satire  of  a  woman — 
this  maimed  and  crippled  mass,  rendered  so  by  the  fiend  it  tried  to 
save!  You  see  her  there,  smiling  in  her  beauty,  her  lace  and  pearls 
hiding  her  false  heart.  You  see  her  there,  the  escaped  convict,  Clare 
De  Miller 

But  she  did  not  faint;  conscious  of  her  innocence,  she  stood  there 
facing  her  enemy,  and  dauntlessly  looked  her  in  the  eye. 

"  Oh!  I  could  not  die  in  peace  till  I  had  sent  her  back  to  where 
she  belonged,  among  thieves  and  murderers!  Officers,  arrest  that 
woman !  She  is  a  tried  and  condemned  thief,  trying  to  escape  her 
just  punishment!" 

Two  policemen  appeared  as  if  summoned  by  the  evil  one,  and  laid 
their  hands  upon  Clare's  shoulder. 

"  Elmer  Dudley,  God  will  avenge  me!" 

They  seized  her  uplifted  hand,  and  pressing  the  rude  iron  on  her 
delicate  wrist,  it  closed  with  a  sound  that  sent  a  shudder  through  the 
room,  and  aroused  the  mother,  who  seemed  to  have  been  turned  to 
stone. 

"No,  no,  no!  you  shall  not  take  her  again!  My  inocent  child!  it 
will  kill  her !  Take  me  instead !  Where — where  is  Sir  Francis  ? 
He  will  not  let  you  go!  He  will  die,  if  need  be,  to  save  you!" 

The  ladies  were   sobbing  now,  and  all  was  excitement  and   pity. 


SECRETS    TOLD. 


211 


The  other  handcuff  closed  with  a  click,  and  all  hope  died  out  of  poor 
Clare's  heart. 

"Oh,  my  mother!     I  cannot  go!" 

"Nor  shall  you,  darling!"  Sir  Francis  stood  in  the  door. 

"Ah!  that  loved  voice!     I  am  saved!" 

"  Officers,  do  you  recognize  this  seal  ?  This  is  from  her  Majesty, 
the  Queen  of  England,  declaring  the  innocence  of  Lady  Clare  De 
'Mille!" 

In  a  moment  they  were  in  each  other's  arms,  and  where  the  police 
man  had  stood,  appeared  a  white  robed  minister.  After  a  moment's 
consultation,  Clare  and  Sir  Francis  stood  before  him.  The  sound  of 
a  sword  clanged  on  the  marble  steps,  and  the  brother  from  India  was 
in  time  to  give  his  sister  to  the  man  she  loved. 

As  their  hands  were  joined,  Elmer,  with  a  hiss  like  a  wounded 
serpent,  rushed  from  the  house,  and  from  that  hour,  she  was  never 
seen  again  outside  her  own  home,  by  friend  or  foe. 

But  a  life  of  happiness  rewarded  the  Lady  Clare  for  all  her  suffer 
ings. 


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